AND 


OTHER   PAPERS 


BY 


THOS.  STARR  KING. 


HON.  RICHARD  FROTHIXGHAM. 


BOSTON: 

TOMPKINS    AND     COMPANY, 

25     COBNHILL. 

1864. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1804, 

BY  TOMPKINS  AND  COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


OKO.  O.  BAND  &  AVERT, 
•TCBIOTTPERS  AND  P B 1 W T 


THE  great  work  laid  upon  hia  two-score  years 
Is  done,  and  well  done.     If  we  drop  our  tears 
Who  loved  him  as  few  men  were  ever  loved, 
We  mourn  no  blighted  hope  nor  broken  plan 
With  him  whose  life  stands  rounded  and  approved 
In  the  full  growth  and  stature  of  a  man. 
Mingle,  O  bells,  along  the  western  slope, 
With  your  deep  toll  a  sound  of  faith  and  hope  1 

Wave  cheerily  still,  O  banner,  half-way  down, 

' .  4 
From  thousand-masted  bay  and  steepled  town! 

Let  the  strong  organ  with  its  loftiest  swell 
Lift  the  proud  sorrow  of  the  land,  and  tell 
That  the  brave  sower  saw  his  ripened  grain. 
O  East  and  West,  O  morn  and  sunset,  twain 
No  more  forever!  —  has  he  lived  in  vain 
Who,  priest  of  Freedom,  made  ye  one,  and  told 
Tour  bridal  service  from  his  lips  of  gold  I 

JOHN  O.  WBITTIIB. 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 

INTRODUCTION 7 

BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH..  .  13 


I. 

PATRIOTISM 29 

II. 
WASHINGTON,  OE  GREATNESS 65 

III. 
BEAUTY  AND  RELIGION 79 

IV. 
GREAT  PRINCIPLES  AND  SMALL  DUTIES.  .  .  . 100 

V. 
PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY 113 

VI. 

THOUGHT  AND  THINGS 164 

V 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PM* 

VII. 
TRUE  GREATNESS 181 

VIII. 
INDIRECT  INFLUENCES 194 

IX. 
LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT 207 

X. 
INWARD  RESOURCES 222 

XI. 
NATURAL  AND  SPIRITUAL  PROVIDENCE 232 

XII. 
PHILOSOPHY  AND  THEOLOGY 241 

XIII. 
NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION 880 

XIV. 
THE  IDEA  OF  GOD  AND  THE  TRUTHS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  312 


XV. 

THE    HARMONY  OF   OPPOSITE  QUALITIES  IN   THE   SAV- 
IOUR'S CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS J30 


XVI. 
THE  CHIEF  APPEAL  OF  RELIGION 346 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  following  pages  are  presented  to  the  friends  and 
admirers  of  the  late  Rev.  THOMAS  STARR  KING,  under 
circumstances  of  more  than  ordinary  interest,  and  by  the 
promptings  of  a  more  than  ordinary  motive. 

The  event  of  the  death  of  Mr.  KING  has  so  recently 
transpired,  that  the  first  gush  of  grief  which  swayed  the 
public  mind,  throughout  the  land,  and  welled  in  the  hearts 
of  those  who  knew  and  loved  him  best,  —  on  reception  of 
the  sudden,  and  unlooked-for  tidings  of  his  decease,  —  has 
scarcely  subsided,  and  left  the  mind  sufficiently  calm  for 
reflection.  The  heavy  tide  of  sorrow  which  has  rolled  over 
so  many  hearts,  has  not  ebbed  back  its  mighty  and  oppres- 
sive waves ;  and,  of  course,  the  time  is  not  yet  for  that  fitting 
tribute  to  his  memory,  his  genius.,  and  his  worth,  which  the 
pen  of  affection  and  respect  will  ere  long  delight  to  bestow. 
But  even  in  advance  of  this,  it  has  been  thought  that  a 
monument  of  enduring  fame  might  be  reared  to  his  memory, 
by  gathering  from  the  various  quarters  where  they  had  been 
strown,  the  scattered  stones  which  his  own  hand  had  so  ex- 
quisitely polished,  and  using  them  in  the  rearing  of  a  struct- 
ure which  may  not  only  speak  of  him,  but  by  him,  in  the 
ages  to  come. 

It  is  well  known  to  many  that  the  rare  scholarship,  and 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

the  rich  literary  taste  of  Mr.  KING  had  often  been  employed 
in  the  production  of  articles  which,  at  the  time,  found  but  a 
limited  and  transient  medium  in  various  periodicals  which 
have  temporarily  stored  their  wealth.  The  publications  in 
which  they  have  appeared,  too,  it  is  equally  well  known,  have 
been  sustained  and  read,  principally,  by  the  supporters  of  a 
particular  religious  sect,  and  have  not  found  their  way  to  the 
public  generally ;  while,  from  their  nature  and  character,  and 
the  truly  catholic  spirit  which  they  have  always  breathed, 
they  have  been  well  calculated  to  enrich  the  uiinds  of  all 
classes. 

Nothing,  seeing  the  light,  has  ever  emanated  from  the 
pen  of  Mr.  KING  which  has  not  been  well  adapted  to  add 
to  the  treasures  of  human  thought ;  nothing  which  might  not 
be  profitably  pondered  by  the  votary  of  any  creed,  Or  the. 
adherent  to  any  party.  While  oftentimes  gems  of  thought, 
brilliant  with  the  flashes  of  a  powerful  and  fervid  mind,  have 
been  strown  abroad  with  a  lavish  hand.  From  a  soul  charmed 
with  the  profound  lore  of  metaphysics,  and  the  deep  myste- 
ries of  the  world  of  thought,  they  have  been  thrown  out; 
yet  not  crude,  and  dull,  and  uninviting.  For  his  sentences 
are  not  read  as  though  the  mind  were  compelled  to  toil  amidst 
the  ruins  of  a  cast-iron  edifice  to  find  them  ;  but  they  come 
lucid,  simple,  and  transparent  in  thought,  while  they  are 
profound  in  wisdom,  woven  in  a  richness  of  imageiy  and  a 
wealth  of  diction  which  inspires  an  interest  and  admiration 
wherever  they  are  read. 

While  the  recollection  is  deeply  saddening  to  the  soul,  that 
one  so  large  in  power,  so  gifted  and  versatile  in  talent,  and 
still  so  rich  in  promise,  while  so  preeminently  useful,  should 
be  removed  from  the  field  of  his  labors  and  his  love,  at  so 
early  a  day,  ere  the  meridian  of  life's  sun  had  shed  its  efful- 
gence upon  his  course,  and  when  the  past  and  present  com- 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

blned  to  inspire  bright  hopes  of  even  greater  good  to  come,  — 
it  is  nevertheless  profoundly  gratifying  that  so  large  a  labor 
had  been  accomplished  by  him,  and  so  much  has  been  left 
as  the  fruitage  of  his  toil,  which  may  so  fully  enrich  the 
minds  of  thoae  who  shall  make  a  study  of  his  efforts. 

Each  article  found  in  this  volume,  we  trust,  will  be  ac- 
knowledged worthy  of  a  more  enduring  position,  and  a  wider 
circulation  than  it  has  hitherto  attained,  and  to  effectuate  this 
has  been  the  main  purpose  of  the  compilation. 

The  articles  have  been  drawn  from  the  pages  of  the  "  Rose 
of  Sharon,"  from  the  "  Universalist  Quarterly,"  and  some 
of  them  from  publications  even  far  less  enduring,  —  all  of 
which  were  necessarily  limited  in  their  circulation.  They 
are  now  placed  in  a  position,  and  we  hope  in  form,  which 
will  gain  for  the  volume  a  place  in  many  a  library,  and  for 
its  treasures  a  place  in  many  a  mind  which,  otherwise,  might 
not  even  have  been  cognizant  of  their  existence. 

It  might  have  been  true  of  the  writings  of  Mr.  KING,  as 
it  doubtless  has  been  of  many  an  author,  that  very  much,  of 
great  and  permanent  worth,  should  be  lost  to  the  general 
mind,  merely  from  the  early  attendant  circumstances  of  their 
production.  For  in  this  regard,  sometimes,  as  well  as  from 
considerations  of  a  wider  range,  the  poet's  words  are  true,  — 

"  Full  many  a  gem,  of  purest  ray  serene, 

The  dark,  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  bear; 
Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen, 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air ! " 

So  uncertain  is  FAME  amid  the  world  of  letters,  that 
doubtless  many  of  the  treasures  of  literature  now  lie 
buried  in  remediless  obscurity ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
many  of  the  golden  thought-gleams,  which  now  illumine  the 
pages  of  literature,  in  both  prose  and  poetry,  have  come 
to  us  only  through  the  fissures  which  the  throes  of  time  have 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

rent  in  the  incrustations  of  the  past ;  while  the  names  of 
those  from  whose  minds  they  have  emanated,  are  entirely 
forgotten  to  the  world.  And  this  simply  through  the 
neglect  of  those  whose  privilege  it  might  have  been  to  con- 
fer a  benefit  upon  the  race,  and  upon  the  authors'  names  a 
lasting  gratitude,  by  gathering  them  from  their  straying, 
into  a  connected  and  enduring  foraK 

The  thoughts  and  words  of  the  good  and  gifted  among 
men  often  live,  after  their  authors  are  no  more,  only  through 
the  thoughtful  care  of  those  who  appreciate  their  value,  and 
are  faithful  to  the  duties  which  circumstances  devolve. 

We  attempt  no  criticism,  nor  comment  on  the  various  arti- 
cles here  presented,  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  KING.  They  will 
speak  for  themselves  in  a  power  more  convincing  than  any 
sentences  which  we  might  frame  ;  and  we  are  confident  that 
they  will  commend  themselves  to  the  favorable  regard  of  the 
intelligent  of  all  classes,  without  the  effort  of  extrinsic  aid. 

We  offer  no  apology  for  the  insertion  in  this  volume  of  the 
excellent  article  on  the  life,  character,  and  death  of  Mr. 
KING.  It  was  written  by  one  who  knew  his  subject  intimately ; 
the  young  man  passing  from  early  youth  to  that  rich  maturity 
which  he  attained  in  manhood's  morning,  under  bis  immediate 
eye  ;  the  observation  of  his  course  being  prompted  by  a  solici- 
tude born  of  respect  for  the  honored  father  of  Mr.  KING,  which 
could  not  but  create  both  anxiety  and  pride,  as  his  young  friend, 
wrestling  with  the  difficulties  and  dangers  of  youth,  passed 
rapidly  the  period  of  adolescence  to  an  early,  a  rich,  and  vigor- 
ous mental  and  moral  manhood.  The  tribute  is  just,  and  worthy 
of  its  able  and  discriminating  author.  It  will  stand  henceforth 
among  the  noblest  tributes  paid  to  a  mind  which,  in  the  midst  of 
an  environment  of  difficulties,  and  embarrassments  of  no  ordi- 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

nary  character,  rose  suddenly  and  securely  to  an  eminence 
and  celebrity  which  few  indeed  are  permitted  to  attain. 

And  here  we  would  stop ;  but  we  cannot  lay  down  our  pen 
without  the  added  remark,  with  reference  to  Mr.  KING,  cog- 
nizant now,  of  those  who  knew  him  the  most  intimately,  that 
when  his  powers  shall  be  analyzed  it  will  be  found  that  not 
the  bright  promise  of  his  manhood  in  youth ;  not  the  quick, 
leaping  vigor  of  his  intellect  as  it  moved  amidst  coruscations 
of  emitted  light ;  not  the  rich  and  stately  flow  of  his  elo- 
quence, which  charmed  to  admiration  wherever  it  was  poured 
out;  not  the  power  and  purity,  or  even  the  sublimity  of 
his  thoughts,  alone  or  combined,  constituted  the  chief  grace 
and  glory  of  his  character ;  but  that,  beneath  all  these,  and 
many  other  qualities  which,  singly,  might  have  made  the 
wealth  of  an  ordinary  mind,  lay,  as  a  base,  that  rich  and 
affluent  mine  of  FILIAL  AFFECTION  AND  DEVOTION,  whose 
treasures  flowed  from  his  young  heart  at  the  instant  touch 
of  necessity,  and,  under  Christian  influence  and  guidance, 
poured  blessings  upon  a  widowed  and  bereaved  household, 
deprived  early  of  their  ordinary  support,  —  which,  besides 
leaving  a  bright  and  endearing  example  to  the  young,  could 
not  fail  to  draw  down  the  approving  benediction  of  Heaven  ! 

This  single  trait  in  the  character  of  THOMAS  STARR  KING 
leaves  an  example  not  only  for  youth  to  imitate,  but  for  the 
world  to  admire  and  honor. 

Might  we  be  permitted,  we  would  fain  dedicate  this 
volume  to  the  bereaved  mother  and  her  children,  as  a  self- 
wrought  monument  of  a  worthy  son  and  brother,  whose 
memory  can  live  in  their  hearts  only  as  a  constant  incentive 
to  gratitude  for  the  gift  and  life  of  one  whose  untiring  devo- 
tion to  their  good  ceased  only  with  the  latest  pulsation  of  his 
large  and  loving  heart. 

Invoking  the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon  this  compilation  of 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

a  portion  of  the  works  of  one  who  has  ascended  to  a  higher 
and  mor3  radiant  sphere,  we  commend  it  to  the  patronage 
and  study  of  the  many  brethren  and  friends  in  whose  hearts 
his  memory  is  evermore  enshrined,  and  to  the  general  public, 
who  have  received  a  benediction  in  the  life  of  the  author. 

T.  J.  G. 


A  BRIEF  SKETCH  OP  THE  HFE  OP 

THOMAS    STARR   KING,* 

BT  HON.  RICHARD  FROTfflNGHAM. 


THE  expression  of  sorrow  at  the  death  of  Thomas 
Starr  King,  both  in  this  region  where  his  days  of 
preparation  and  early  service  were  passed,  in  places 
where  his  varied  labors  made  him  known,  and  on  the 
Pacific  shore,  indicate  a  general  sense  of  a  public 
loss ;  and  the  feeling  that  one  of  uncommon  gifts  has 
gone  to  his  reward.  He  was  ready  to  meet  the  Master, 
to  whose  service,  even  as  youth  was  budding,  he  con- 
secrated the  powers  with  which  the  Almighty  had 
endowed  him. 

This  morning  consecration  —  this  inner  spring  of 
motive  working  in  every  outward  phase  —  developed 
itself  very  early  ;  it  lingered  like  a  guardian  angel ; 
it  was  ever  triumphant,  and  it  is  the  key  of  this 
remarkable  and  beautiful  life. 

Thomas  Starr  King  was  born  in  the  city  of  New 
York  (1824),  passed  his  early  boyhood  in  Hudson 
and  Portsmouth,  and  at  ten  years  of  age,  when  a  good 

*  From  Boston  Post,  March  10,  1804. 
18 


14  SKETCH   OF   THE   LIFE   OF 

Latin  and  French  scholar,  was  taken  to  Charlestown 
(1835),  when  his  father  became  the  pastor  of  the 
Universalist  Society  of  that  place.  Thomas  Far- 
rington  King  was  a  genial,  generous,  noble-hearted 
man,  of  a  sympathetic  nature,  full  of  humor,  and  of 
theological  views  which,  much  as  he  loved  the  order 
to  which  he  belonged,  could  not  be  narrowed  to  the 
lines  of  creed  or  sect.  Starr,  as  he  was  familiarly 
called,  was  the  oldest  child ;  and  his  father  saw,  with 
all  a  father's  pride,  the  unfolding  powers  and  bent  of 
his  gifted  son,  who  took  his  place  as  a  pupil  in  the 
public  schools  and  was  constant  at  the  Sunday  school. 
It  was  soon  plain  enough  that  Charlestown  had  no 
institution  that  met  the  wants  of  this  bright  youth  ; 
and  that  the  preparation  for  a  collegiate  course, 
which  his  father  designed,  must  be  found  elsewhere. 
His  bent  was  seen  in  a  sermon  which  at  the  age  of 
thirteen  while  his  father  was  absent  at  the  West, 
he  wrote,  and  sent  to  a  newspaper;  and  it  ap- 
peared in  type. 

In  a  year  or  two  after  this  settlement,  a  long  and 
deep-seated  disease  sapped  the  vitality  of  the  good 
pastor,  and  at  the  age  of  forty-two  (September, 
1839) ,  death  closed  his  labors.  An  impressive  funeral 
service  in  the  church,  a  great  procession  of  the  peo- 
ple, a  gathering  of  thousands  on  the  ancient  burial- 
ground  of  Charlestown,  a  spontaneous  closing  of 
places  of  business,  testified  to  the  affection  and  re- 
spect that  bore  the  sacred  remains  to  their  resting- 
place.  On  the  evening  of  this  funeral  there  was 
preaching  in  the  vacant  pulpit  by  a  young  man  and 


THOMAS   STARR  KING.  15 

a  stranger  in  the  place.  The  theme  selected  was 
Faith ;  and,  with  the  emblems  of  the  recent  mortal- 
ity hanging  about  the  church,  the  lesson  was  enforced 
with  uncommon  effect.  The  manuscript  was  mostly 
followed  until  near  the  close,  when  the  preacher, 
summoning  the  lesson  of  the  passing  hour  for  illus- 
tration, left  his  notes,  and  abandoned  himself  to  his 
subject,  his  deep,  rich  voice,  full  of  emotion,  rising 
and  swelling  organ-like  into  a  pathos,  and  a  power 
which  thrilled  the  great  and  breathless  assembly.  It 
was  eloquence,  for  it  was  an  inspiration  of  soul. 
The  preacher  was  Edwin  H.  Chapin,  who  was  the 
successor  of  the  deceased  pastor,  and  the  close,  life- 
long friend  of  Thomas  Starr  King. 

The  sickness  and  straitened  circumstances  of  the 
father  defeated  the  plans  for  a-jcollegiate  course  for 
Starr ;  and,  instead,  a  place  temporarily  had  been 
found  for  him  in  a  dry  goods  store  in  Charlestown, 
where  he  was  the  book-keeper.  Now  began  that 
filial  and  fraternal  piety  that  gilds  a  purest  ray  serene 
the  whole  of  this  extraordinary  life ;  for  the  lad  of 
fifteen  was  the  main  stay  of  his  mother,  and  as  a  father 
to  the  five  younger  children.  Labor  for  such  objects 
was  sacred.  His  genuine  life,  however,  was  not  in 
the  accounts  which  he  pored  over ;  for  then  he  was 
ministered  to  by  his  noble  aspirations,  his  commun- 
ings  were  with  the  great  masters  of  thought,  and  as 
he  mused  the  fire  burned.  His  efforts  were  never 
turned  from  'self-culture,  nor  his  thought  from  his 
mission. 

It  happened  that  the  members  of  the  school  com- 


16  SKETCH   OF   THE  LIFE   OF 

mittee  of  the  town  knew  these  circumstances,  and  a 
place  was  made  for  Starr  as  an  assistant  teacher  in 
the  public  school  which  he  first  entered  as  a  pupil, 
—  the  principal  of  which  was  Mr.  Benjamin  F. 
Tweed,  now  a  professor  of  Tufts  College,  and  another 
early  and  life-long  friend  of  Starr.  The  young  teacher 
entered  with  a  light  heart  on  his  new  vocation, 
brought  to  its  tasks  abundant  resources,  and  soon 
lived  down  whatever  doubts  were  felt  as  to  the  judg- 
ment of  the  selection.  The  calling, .  as  well  as  the 
pursuits  of  his  leisure  hours,  now  helped  on  his 
work  of  discipline.  His  hope  for  the  future  bright- 
ened and  strengthened  as  he  grew  in  years.  Only 
those  who  heard  him  talk  can  tell,  what  a  ministry 
to  his  spirit  were  the  affluence  of  utterance  and  the 
companionship  of  his  beloved  pastor. 

At  length  a  vacancy  in  a  Medford  grammar  school 
(1842)  made  an  opening  for  a  higher  position,  be- 
cause independent,  and  the  young  teacher  applied 
for  the  place.  It  seemed  at  the  time  to  him  and  to 
his  friends,  but  the  simple  question  of  a  wider  field 
of  duty  and  a  larger  means  of  support  for  him  and 
his  ;  but,  in  the  light  of  after  events,  it  looks  more 
like  Providence  shaping  his  ends.  This  town  then 
enjoyed  the  blessing  of  the  influence  of  Rev.  Hosea 
Ballou  2d,  who  became  subsequently  the  president 
of  Tufts  College,  who  was  of  child-like  simplicity  of 
character,  of  varied  and  profound  learning,  wise  and 
good  and  great.  He  was  a  member  of  the  school  com- 
mittee, interested  himself  successfully  for  the  appli- 
cant whose  youth  suggested  doubts  as  to  the  expedi- 


THOMAS   STARR   KING.  17 

eucy  of  the  appointment ;  and  a  few  weeks  after  the 
transfer,  he  said,  that  while  Medford  had  gained  a 
competent  and  faithful  teacher,  he  had  found  a  rare 
and  precious  friend.  What  love  and  confidence 
between  these  gifted  and  kindred  souls  !  The  one 
of  silver  locks,  rich  in  ancient  and  modern  lore,  the 
other  thirsty  for  knowledge,  and  scaling  the  heights 
with  a  scholar's  enthusiasm ;  .and  both  of  wit  that 
was  quick,  easy,  of  constant  natural  flow,  elicited 
by  the  commonest  things,  but  diamond-like,  sharp, 
and  sparkling.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  admiration 
which  Dr.  Ballou  habitually  expressed  for  the  in- 
tellectual gifts  of  his  young  friend,  and  no  one  ever 
heard  from  the  lips  of  Thomas  Starr  King  aught  but 
love  and  gratitude  for  his  Theological  Father.  The 
correspondence  between  them,  rich  in  the  play  of 
the  fancy  and  in  the  soundings  of  the  depths,  will 
be  a  feature  in  the  memorials  of  their  lives. 

While  discharging  the  duties  of  teacher,  there 
went  on  a  systemetic  course  of  study  with  a  view 
to  the  ministry,  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Ballou. 
It  was  labor  he  delighted  in.  He  was  familiar  with 
the  utterances  t)f  Channing,  and  had  imbibed  their 
spirit ;  indeed,  he  was  ever  quick  to  know  things  of 
note  in  theology ;  and  no  sooner  did  they  appear  than 
he  would  have  them  in  hand,  either  from  the  choice 
storehouse  of  his  pastor,  or  from  elsewhere ;  for 
neither,  if  he  could  help  it,  would  sleep  without 
knowing  the  last  word  from  a  real  teacher.  At  this 
period  Professor  Walker,  of  Harvard  College,  deliv- 
ered his  Lectures  on  Natural  Religion  before  the 


18  SKETCH   OP   THE   LIFE   OF 

Lowell  Institute  in  Boston,  which  were  of  absorbing 
interest  to  the  young  student,  who  came  regularly 
from  Medford,  not  merely  to  listen  to  them,  but  to/ 
bear  them  away  in  copious  notes  from  which  he  wrote 
out  the  lectures  in  full.  He  did  more.  He  made  the 
great  theme  his  study.  He  revolved  over  in  his  mind 
the  tough  problems  which  they  dealt  with.  He  con- 
sulted the  authors  to  which  reference  was  made  in 
them.  His  capacity  for  the  subtleties  of  metaphys- 
ics was  wonderful.  He  threaded  easily,  as  by  intui- 
tion, through  intricacies  of  thought  where  others 
had  to  rough-hew  it  to  find  their  way.  The  ca- 
pacity grew  by  what  it  fed  on.  He  ascribed  much 
fixedness  of  opinion  on  important  points  to  the  study 
and  direction  which  these  lectures  gave  him ;  not 
improbably  they  saved  him  from  that  experience  of 
doubt  and  unbelief  which  so  many  gifted  minds 
pass  through. 

While  thus  engaged,  his  friends  were  enabled  to 
tender  him  a  desk  (1843)  in  the  naval  storekeeper's 
office  in  the  CUarlestown  navy  yard,  which  prom- 
ised to  double  his  means  of  living  and  to  multiply 
his  choice  selection  of  books,  —  the  silent  never-com- 
plaining companions  which  he  was  lovingly  gathering 
in.  It  was  accepted.  This  was  a  crisis  period  of  his 
life.  Young  as  he  was,  lie  had  experienced  the  minis- 
try of  suffering  in  most  of  the  forms  that  rive  the 
human  heart.  The  struggle  at  times  had  been  severe ; 
but  his  high  aim,  his  inner  motive — just  the  simple 
truth  —  enabled  him  to  bear  up  and  to  press  on ; 
now  the  prospect  ahead  began  to  be  a  clear  sea  and 


THOMAS  STARE   KING.  19 

halcyon  sky  ;  and  seldom  is  seen  a  happier  soul,  than 
for  two  years  was  Thomas  Starr  King,  as  he  still  kept 
steadily  in  the  road  of  progress,  that  he  might  make 
himself  worthy  to  enter  upon  his  father's  vocation  ; 
for  none  could  look  with  greater  disfavor  than  he 
certainly  did  upon  unpreparedness,  either  in  heart 
or  mind,  for  the  ministerial  work.  He  now  paid  close 
attention  to  the  German ;  often  he  left  the  commu- 
nion of  his  pastor  to  listen  to  discourses  in  this  lan- 
guage ;  and  far  into  midnight  he  would  talk  of  Goethe 
Schiller,  and  the  divines  of  the  school  of  Tholuck 
and  DeWette.  He  had  long  been  familiar  with  Plato, 
and  so  closely  studied  the  father  of  the  progressive 
school  of  philosophy  that  he  seemed  to  live  with  him. 
On  one  occasion  returning,  from  a  season  of  com- 
munion with  his  mentor,  Dr.  Ballou,  his  bright  eye 
had  an  uncommon  sparkle  and  his  countenance  was 
aglow  with  joy,  at  the  judgment  of  this  ripe  scholar 
on  a  manuscript  essay  which  he  had  prepared  on 
knotty  points  of  the  Platonic  works.  This  was  not 
flattery  in  one  of  the  truest  and  sincerest  of  men ; 
it  was  not  vanity  in  a  devoted  explorer  in  the 
realms  of  truth ;  it  was  recognition  by  one  having 
authority  of  an  intellectual  triumph  ;  and  joy  in  the 
young  enthusiast  at  another  mark  of  progress  up 
heights  which  he  felt  necessary  to  attain,  even  though 
he  might  .have  the  crowning  qualification  of  the 
Christian  gifts  ere  he  could  be  a  worthy  minister  of 
the  Gospel. 

His  circle  of  friends  was  now  widening.      His 
genial, generous,  sympathetic  nature,  like  magnetism, 


20  SKETCH   OF  THE  LIFE   OF 

drew  all  hearts  to  him  wherever  he  went ;  for  the  natu- 
ral gentleman  was  behind  those  brilliant  conversational 
powers  that  made  him  the  delight  of  society.  He 
had  much  communion  with  ingenuous  young  men 
of  Harvard,  who  knew  of  "  Starr  King,"  sought  his 
acquaintance,  and  with  some  of  whom, — now  stand- 
ing high  in  their  callings, — who  might  be  named, 
he  compared  notes  of  progress.  Of  friends  who 
passed  on  before  him,  were  John  and  Sarah  Edgar- 
ton,  both  of  whom,  with  rare  spiritual  natures, 
believed  with  the  young  student,  that  they  had 
an  appointed  work  to  do.  Nothing  but  good  influ- 
ences grew  out  of  such  communions,  which  were  as 
free  from  anything  like  cant  as  they  were  ennobling. 
The  temptation  is  strong  to  linger  on  the  simple 
"  Starr  King,"  —  as  his  friends  call  him,  —  when  he 
was  about  to  step  on  manhood's  threshold  and  respon- 
sibilties,  and  before  the  public  eye  was  fixed  on  him. 
He  did  not  dwell  apart,  a  solitary,  in  severe  contem- 
plation, affecting  ways  of  greatness  ;  but  lived  as  a 
true  man  of  the  world,  interesting  in  what  was  going 
on  around  him,  a  close  observer  of  common  life, 
seizing  witli  zest  passing  incidents  having  touches  of 
humor  in  them  and  telling  them  with  a  right  merry, 
ringing  laugh;  and  there  was  so  much  and  such 
heartiness  in  this,  that  a  casual  acquaintance  might 
suppose  that,  to  tell  stories,  was  his  great  ambition. 
This  would  have  been  unjust.  His  real  lifa  con- 
tinued to  be  the  high  spiritual  communion  that 
strengthened  his  character  and  carried  him  nearer 
to  his  goal.  Of  his  literary  friends  of  his  own  ago, 


THOMAS   STARK   KING.  21 

perhaps  there  were  none  dearer  to  him  than  John 
Edgarton,  already  named,  —  a  pure,  quiet,  undemon- 
strative soul,  but  deeply  religious,  who  died  just 
as  he  completed  his  collegiate  course  at  Harvard. 
Both  had  a  like  philosophical  turn ;  both  aimed 
for  the  clerical  office  and  both  were  of  singular 
promise.  His  death,  in  the  high  hope  of  manly 
youth,  was  a  great  bereavement ;  another  ministry  of 
suffering,  quickening  and  deepening  the  wells  of 
sympathy  in  with  him. 

As  he  approached  his  majority,  wise  advisers  in 
the  ministry  judged  him  qualified  to  assume  its 
duties.  Still  it  was  with  unaffected  diffidence  that 
he  delivered  at  Woburn  (September,  1845),  his  first 
sermon  ;  and  he  preferred  that  none  of  his  intimate 
friends  should  hear  him.  His  services  were  accepta- 
ble. His  calls  to  supply  pulpits  were  numerous, 
perhaps  more  than  he  cared  to  answer ;  for  he 
looked  on  study  for  a  long  time  yet  as  a  duty.  It 
now  happened  that  Rev.  E.  H.  Chapin  felt  it  a  duty 
to  accept  (January,  1846)  a  call  for  a  wider  field  of 
labor  in  Boston  ;  his  society  sought  to  have  the  young 
preacher  for  their  pastor  ;  and  a  year  after  Mr.  King 
preached  his  first  sermon,  he  was  installed  over  this 
society.  The  services  were  impressive.  Rev.  Hosea 
Ballon  2d  made  the  charge  to  the  pastor,  and  the 
sermon  was  by  Rev.  Edwin  H.  Chapin. 

The  young  minister  brought  to  his  work  a  rare 
combination  of  experience.  He  had  mingled  much 
with  the  world.  He  had  not,  it  is  true,  threaded  the 
dark  paths,  to  study  human  nature ;  he  never  had  an 


22  SKETCH  OF  THE   LIFE   OF 

eye  for  the  rotten  side  of  life ;  but  his  warm  and 
sunny  nature  drew  inspiration  from  the  exhibitions 
of  duty  in  the  humble  Christian's  walk  and  wherever 
he  met  the  good,  the  J;rue,  and  the  beautiful.  He 
had,  too,  free  contact  with  men  and  things,  and  a 
large  common  sense.  And,  joining  the  lessons  of  the 
practical,  with  the  fruits  of  steady  study,  for  two 
years  he  poured  forth  wise,  mature,  profound  utter- 
ances that  dropped  like  golden  words  from  the  desk. 
Then  in  the  round  of  pastoral  duties,  in  the  seasons 
of  joy  and  of  sorrow,  he  drew  from  deep,  inward 
fountains  of  feeling,  —  his  own  experience,  —  and  to 
these  he  added  unwonted  outward  grace  and  dignity. 
He  saw  his  labors  prosper  under  his  hand. 

It  was  but  natural,  however,  that  he  should  meet 
with  obstacles ;  that  many  should  not  have  recog- 
nized in  his  own  land  the  prophet.  No  university 
crowned  him  with  its  honors  ;  the  circle  of  fashion 
could  hardly  comprehend  his  glorious  merit ;  no 
great  patrons  sounded  his  fame ;  and  it  seemed  to 
many  not  possible  that  Saul  could  step  from  the  local 
counting-room,  the  grammar-school  or  the  navy-yard. 
Though  all  might  well  know  that  as  man  thinketh 
in  his  heart,  so  is  he,  but  few  could  really  know  the 
great  thought  and  inner  motive  power  that  nerved  and 
moved  his  soul ;  and  the  index  of  it,  his  words  what- 
ever they  might  be,  had  to  penetrate  a  thick  crust  of 
prejudice,  or  of  envy,  or,  harder  than  all,  of  conceit ; 
and  to  get  through  this  requires  time  and  outside 
help.  The  wonder  is  that  so  many  saw  and  bowed 
before  the  extraordinary  gift. 


THOMAS  STARR   KING.  23 

His  frail  frame  reeled  under  the  labors  and  anxiety 
of  the  charge ;  but  a  voyage  to  Fayal  (1848)  brought 
to  him  renewed  strength,  and  on  his  return,  his  spirit 
was  buoyant  and  he  seemed  in  pristine  vigor.  This 
year  he  accepted  a  call  to  fill  the  desk  in  Boston,  in 
Hollis  Street,  once  occupied  by  a  Holley.  It  cost 
him  a  severe  struggle  to  part  with  old  friends  and 
the  friends  of  his  father  ;  and  it  grieved  them  to  part 
with  him.  He  announced  his  purpose  in  a  charac- 
teristic note  to  his  society,  frank,  warm,  and  beauti- 
ful. It  was  just  in  his  way  —  his  modesty  of  manner 
and  his  under-estimate  of  himself —  to  write  (Sep- 
tember) as  to  the  course  he  felt  compelled  to  take  : 
"  It  is  but  just  to  say  what  is  sufficiently  obvious, 
that  no  cause  of  dissatisfaction  has  been  furnished 
by  the.  society,  neither  has  any  grown  out  of  its  cir- 
cumstances or  condition.  Its  prosperity  is  evident ; 
and  I  have  ever  been  treated  by  its  members  with 
kindness  and  forbearance.  They  have  been  more 
faithful  to  their  duties  than  I  to  mine." 

And  here  this  tribute  to  this  remarkable  life  may 
appropriately  stop.  It  is  but  a  sketch  of  its  prepar- 
atory work  and  may  be  pronounced  presumption  to 
have  attempted  to  do  this.  There  succeeded  sixteen 
years  of  labor,  of  service  —  in  Boston,  over  half  the 
kind,  in  California  —  by  the  pen,  in  the  desk,  in 
the  lecture  room,  in  the  home.  It  hardly  left  the 
required  time  for  tt\p  quiet  progress  of  self-culture. 
The  demand  was  incessant  for  service,  and  this  in 
a  certain  sense  is  growth.  The  fruitage  is  too 
well  known  to  need  enumeration.  His  new  fields 


24  SKETCH   OF  THE  LIFE   OP 

of  labor  won  ever  for  him  hosts  of  friends ;  and 
the  ripe  in  years  and  the  profound  in  learning,  as ' 
well  as  the  unlettered  and  the  young,  bore  ready 
testimony  to  the  charm  of  his  varied  gifts  both  in 
public  and  private.  When  the  time  came  for  him 
to  part  with  his  Hollis  Street  circle,  there  was 
another  struggle  ;  and  the  ministering  brother  whom 
he  invited  to  be  with  him  in  the  last  service  in  this 
church,  was  a  kindred  spirit — Rev.  C.  H.  Leonard, 
of  Chelsea.  "  I  know  not  how  I  can  go  through  with 
it,"  he  said,  as  he  was  about  to  enter  the  desk.  "  You 
cannot  go  through  with  it ;  you  will  be  carried 
through,"  was  the  reply. 

The  work  done  in  California  —  the  strengthen- 
ing and  even  building  up  of  a  society  —  the  erection 
of  a  noble  church  —  the  gift  of  a  magnificent  organ 
from  the  proceeds  of  lectures — to  say  nothing 
of  a  personation  of  the  patriotism  and  loyalty  of  the 
people  in  this  crisis  of  country,  —  rounded  off  this 
remarkable  life.  The  crowning  of  glory  is  the  com- 
plement of  the  morning  consecration.  His  private 
letters,  for  months,  show  how  near  the  pastor's  heart 
was  this  whole  field  of  labor.  He  wrote  of  the  beauti- 
ful Temple  of  Worship  as  his  monument.  He  longed 
to  have  it  completed.  He  wished  to  see  it  free  from 
debt.  At  length  it  was  finished  ;  but  as  his  friends 
were  anticipating  rest  from  labors  that  taxed  heavily 
his  body  and  mind,  he  received  the  mysteriously 
ordered  summons  hence.  He  was  conscious  to  the 
last.  He  said  he  was  "  HAPPY  TO  GO.  "  And  while 
the  society  who  buried  the  father  and  welcomed  the 


PATRIOTISM.  33 

glory  of  his  nation.  Nobler  than  his  military  valor, 
was  the  ambition  that  urged  him  to  rouse  the  dor- 
mant genius  of  his  land,  and  to  enshrine  and  cele- 
brate its  hallowed  memories  in  odes  and  jubilant 
hymns.  From  his  heart,  burst  the  gush  of  feeling 
which  the  Christian  Church  now  uses  as  the  expres- 
sion of  a  spiritual  Patriotism,  —  "  Pray  for  the  peace 
of  Jerusalem,  they  shall  prosper  that  love  thee. 
Peace  be  within  thy  walls,  and  prosperity  within  thy 
palaces.  For  my  brethren  and  companions'  sakes,  I 
will  now  say  peace  be  within  thee."  And  it  is  in 
the  Psalms  that  we  read  the  touching  lament,  as 
from  the  heart  of  Patriotism  itself,  —  "  How  shall  we 
sing  the  Lord's  song  in  a  strange  land  ?  If  I  forget 
thee,  0  Jerusalem,  let  my  right  hand  forget  her  cun- 
ning -.  .  .  let  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of 
my  mouth  ;  if  I  prefer  not  Jerusalem  above  my  chief 

joy." 

In  the  prophecies,  too,  the  authority  of  God  and 
the  evil  of  sin  are  blended  inseparably  with  aspira- 
tions for  the  glory  of  Israel.  A  prophet  could  not 
brace  his  breast  to  denounce  an  impending  woe, 
without  casting  his  eye  farther  on,  and  hailing  the 
light  of  future  national  eminence,  which  made  his 
heart  swell  with  reverent  pride,  and  in  which  the 
darkness  of  the  threatened  judgment  melted  away. 
Although  the  highest  office  of  Revelation  is  to  point 
to,  and  prepare  us  for,  the  "  better  country,  even  the 
heavenly,"  no  one  can  rightly  read  the  pages  of  the 
Bible,  without  catching  enthusiasm  for  his  earthly 


34  PATRIOTISM.      , 

country,  the  land  of  his  fathers,  the  shelter  of  his 
'infancy,  the  hope  of  his  children.  . 

Do  we  not  read  that  even  He  whose  love  embraced 
the  whole  race  in  its  scope,  the  eternal  and  impartial 
Love  made  flesh,  who  pronounced  the  parable  of  the 
good  Samaritan,  and  shed  the  warmth  of  that  spirit, 
through  his  life,  into  the  frosty  air  of  human  senti- 
ment, felt  more  keenly  the  alienation  of  his  country- 
men according  to  the  flesh,  than  he  felt  the  spear-point 
and  the  nails,  and  paused  over  the  beautiful  city  of 
David  to  utter  a  lament  whose  burden  swept  away 
the  prospect  of  his  own  lowering  destiny,  —  "0 
Je-rusalem,  Jerusalem,  .  .  .  how  often  would  I 
have  gathered  your  children  together,  even  as  a  lien 
gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings, and  ye  would 
not !  Behold  your  house  is  left  unto  you  desolate." 

When  we  say  that  the  Bible  justifies  and  encour- 
ages patriotism,  we  virtually  say  that  it  is  a  senti- 
ment subject  to  the  sway  of  the  moral  law,  requir- 
ing, like  all  our  natural  instincts,  guidance,  Christian 
light,  and  training.  There  are  base  theories  about  the 
superiority  of  this  sentiment  to  any  Christian  limita- 
tions. There  are  base  counterfeits  of  the  sentiment 
itself.  It  is  not  the  pugilistic  passion  that  estimates 
glory  solely  by  battle-fields,  weighs  national  worth  by 
vigor  of  muscle,  and  culls  the  anthology  of  its  bloody 
traditions  in  a  sort  of  "  Pirate's  Own  Book,"  by  which 
its  brutal  appetite  is  nourished.  It  is  not  the  sense- 
less sentimentalism  that  so  often  with  us,  on  public 
occasions,  finds  literary  expression  in  tawdry  rhetoric, 
flaccid  apostrophes,  and  sophomoric  gasconade,  and 


PATRIOTISM.  35 

which  has  sometimes  raised  the  problem  before  sensi- 
tive minds,  whether  on  the  whole,  the  service  of  our 
national  holiday  to  liberty  compensates  for  its  de- 
bauching influence  on  literary  taste. 

The  patriotism  that  is  a  virtue,  and  that  ennobles 
character,  is  a  spirit  of  devotion  to  one's  country, 
from  a  purified  instinct  and  for  purposes  of  enlight- 
ened benefit.  It  is  nursed  and  hallowed  by  Chris- 
tian principle  and  draws  to  its  aid  all  the  resources 
of  genius.  It  is  a  constructive  quality, ,  quickening 
the  intellect  by  its  love  of  country  to  zealous  ambition 
to  improve  it  and  raise  it  higher.  It  is  an  imaginative 
sentiment.  Imagination  is  essential  to  its  vigor.  It 
comprehends  hills,  streams,  plains,  and  valleys  in  a 
broad  conception,  and  from  traditions  and  institutions 
—  from  all  the  life  of  the  past  and  the  vigor  and 
noble  tendencies  of  the  present,  it  individualizes  the 
destiny  and  personifies  the  spirit  of  its  land,  and  then 
vows  its  vow  to  that.  So  that  it  is  of  the  very  essence 
of  true  patriotism  to  be  earnest  and  truthful,  to  scorn 
the  flatterer's  tongue,  and  strive  to  keep  its  native 
land  in  harmony  with  the  laws  of  national  thrift  and 
power.  It  will  tell  a  land  of  its  faults,  as  a  friend 
will  counsel  a  companion  ;  it  will  speak  as  honestly 
as  the  physician  advises  a  patient ;  and  if  occasion 
requires,  an  indignation  will  flame  out  of  its  love, 
like  that  which  burst  from  the  lips  of  Moses  when 
he  returned  from  the  mountain,  and  found  the  people 
to  whom  he  had  revealed  the  holy  and  austere 
Jehovah,  and  for  whom  he  would  cheerfully  have 
sacrificed  his  life,  worshipping  a  calf. 


36  PATRIOTISM. 

The  distinctive  feature  of  true  patriotism  is  that 
it  is  pledged  to  the  idea  which  one's  native  country 
represents.  It  does  not  accept  and  glory  in  its 
country  merely  for  what  it  is  at  present,  and  has  been 
in  the  past,  but  for  what  it  may  be.  Each  nation  has 
a  representative  value.  Each  race  that  has  appro- 
"priated  a  certain  latitude  which  harmonizes  with  its 
blood,  has  the  capacity  to  work  out  special  good 
results,  and  reveal  great  truths  in  some  distinctive 
forms.  God  designs  that  each  country  should  wear 
a  peculiar  ideal  physiognomy,  and  He  has  set  its 
geographical  characteristics  as  a  bony  skeleton,  and 
breathed  into  it  a  free  life-spirit  which,  if  loyal  to 
the  divine  intention,  will  keep  the  blood  in  health, 
infuse  vigor  into  every  limb,  give  symmetry  to  the 
form,  and  carry  the  flush  of  a  pure  and  distinct  ex- 
pression to  the'countenance.  It  is  the  patriot's  office 
to  study  the  laws  of  public  growth  and  energy,  and 
strive  with  enthusiastic  love  to  guard  against  every 
disease  that  would  cripple  the  resources  of  the  frame 
and  thus  prevent  the  lineaments  of  vice  and  brutal- 
ity from  degrading  the  face,  which  God  would  have 
radiant  with  truth,  genius,  and  purity. 

He  was  the  be^st  patriot  of  ancient  Greece  who  had 
the  widest  and  wisest  conception  of  the  capacities 
and  genius  of  Greece,  and  labored  to  paint  that  ideal 
winningly  before  the  national  mind,  and  to  direct  the 
flame  of  national  aspiration,  fanned  by  its  heroic 
memories,  up  to  the  noblest  possibilities  of  Grecian 
endeavor.  The  truest  patriot  of  England  would  be 
the  man  whose  mind  should  see  in  The  English  genius 


I. 

PATRIOTISM.1 


IT  has  been  questioned  by  some,  whether  there  is 
any  such  distinct  virtue  as  Patriotism.  Not  a  few 
moralists  have  indulged  suspicions  as  to  the  harmony 
of  such  a  passion  with  the  soul's  integrity.  Many 
Christians  have  openly  denied  its  consistency  with 
the  moral  temper  which  the  New  Testament  would 
inspire ;  while  others  have  strenuously  urged  that  it  is 
the  very  royal  grace  of  character,  and  oversweeps  all 
virtues.  There  is  a  sliding  scale  of  judgments  as 
to  its'  legitimacy  and  worthiness,  from  the  declaration 
of  Dr.  Johnson,  that  "  Patriotism  is  the  last  refuge 
of  a  scoundrel,"  to  that  of  Cicero,  that  it  is  a  duty 
more  sacred  than  the  filial  tie. 

In  abstract  controversy  we  may  dispute  with  some 
plausibility  the  moral  healthiness  of  the  sentiment, 
and  may  not  be  able  to  free  it  from  all  haze,  and  dis- 
cern its  disc ;  but  the  living  world  braces  the  mind 
and  refutes  its  skepticism.  History  refuses  to  coun- 
tenance the  analytic  ethics  of  spiritual  dreamers.  It 
thrusts  upon  our  notice,  Leonidas,  Tell,  Camillus, 

1  The  substance  of  this  article  is  from  a  discourse,  delivered  in  Boston, 
before  the  Ancient  and  Honorable  Artillery  Company,  on  the  occasion 
of  their  two  hundred  and  thirteenth  Anniversary,  June  2d,  1851. 

29 


30  PATKIOTISM. 

Hampden,  Winkelried,  Scipio,  Lafayette,  Ad.ams, 
Bolivar,  and  Washington,  in  whom  the  sentiment  has 
become  flesh,  and  gathered  to  itself  the  world's  af- 
fection and  honors.  An  honest  heart  cannot  help 
feeling,  when  it  reads  their  biographies,  that  their 
line  of  greatness  is  as  legitimate  as  that  of  poets, 
philosophers,  philanthropists,  and  priests.  We  can- 
not be  so  sure  that  the  principles  which  would  ex- 
punge their  names  from  the  world's  honorable  regard, 
or  throw  suspicion  upon  their  virtue,  are  right,  as  we 
ought  to  be  that  the  result  is  wrong  and  base,  and 
therefore,  that  the  principles  must  be  false. 

The  virtue  of  Patriotism  has  been  provided  for, 
and  is  expected  of  us,  by  nature.  Some  moralists, 
as  we  have  already  intimated,  have  condemned  all 
private  and  restricted  affections,  as  inconsistent  with 
the  law  of  universal  love.  They  argue  that  our  love 
must  be  for  being  in  general,  and  must  be  pcopor- 
tioned  by  the  moral  worth  of  the  object,  without  re- 
gard to  relationships,  ties,  and  personal  associations. 
But  they  only  argue  against  nature.  The  method 
of  Providence  in  invoking  our  spiritual  sentiments 
is  always  from  particulars  to  generals.  God  "  hath 
set  the  solitary  in  families,"  and  bound  the  families 
into  communities,  and  organized  communities  into 
nations ;  and  he  has  ordained  special  duties  for  each 
of  these  relationships,  and  inspired  affections  to 
prompt  those  duties  and  to  ennoble  the  character. 

The  law  of  love  is  the  principle  of  the  spiritual 
universe,  just  as  the  force  of  gravity  is  the  govern- 
ing law  of  space.  It  binds  each  particle  of  matter 


PATRIOTISM.  31 

every  other  particle,  but  it  attracts  inversely  accord- 
ing to  the  square  of  the  distance,  and  thus  becomes 
practically  a  series  of  special  and  local  forces,  binding 
'our  feet  constantly  and  irresistibly  to  one  globe,  and 
allowing  only  a  general  unity,  which  the  inind  appro- 
priates through  science  and  meditation,  with  the  far 
off  and  kindred  spheres.  The  soul  that  has  most  of 
the  universal  Christian  sentiment  of  love,  will  have 
the  most  intense  special  affections.  We  cannot  love 
the  whole  world  and  nobody  in  particular.  However 
deep  the  baptism  of  the  spirit  in  general  good-will,  a 
man  must  look  with  a  thrill  of  love  that  nothing  else 
can  awaken,  into  the  face  of  the  mother  that  bore 
him  ;  he  cannot  resolve  the  ties  that  bind  him  to 
filial  responsibilities  and  a  brother's  devotion ;  and 
so  Providence  has  ordained  that,  out  of  identity  of 
race,  a  common  history,  the  same  scenery,  litera- 
ture, and  laws,  though  in  perfect  harmony  with  a 
sense  of  good-will  to  all  men,  the  wider  family  feel- 
ing, the  distinctive  virtue,  Patriotism,  should  spring. 
If  the  ancient  Roman  could  believe  that  the  yellow 
Tiber  was  the  river  dearest  to  heaven ;  if  the  Eng- 
lishman can  see  a  grandeur  in  the  Thames  which  its 
size  will  not  suggest ;  if  the  Alpine  storm-wind  is  a 
familiar  home-song  to  the  Swiss  mountaineer  ;  if  the 
Laplander  believes  that  his  country  is  the  best  the  sun 
shines  upon  ;  if  the  sight  of  our  nation's  flag  in  other 
lands  awakens  sentiments  that  speed  the  blood,  and 
melt  the  eyes  ;  if  the  poorest  man  feels  a  proud  con- 
sciousness of  property  in  the  great  deeds  that  glow 
upon  his  country's  annals,  and  the  monuments  of  its 


32  PATRIOTISM. 

power  and  glory ;  let  us  confess  that  the  heart  of 
man  was  made  to  contract  a  special  friendship  for  its 
native  soil,  its  kindred  stock,  and  its  ancestral  tradi- 
tions, and  that  where  the  sentiment  of  Patriotism  is 
not  deep,  a  sacred  affection  is  absent,  an  essential 
element  of  virtue  is  wanting,  and  religion  barren  of 
one  great  witness  of  its  sway. 

I  know  it  has  been  said  that  the  Bible  does  not 
justify  and  commend  Patriotism,  in  any  of  its  pre- 
cepts. No,  but  it  sanctions  and  illustrates  it  by 
splendid  examples.  The  prime  instructions  of  the 
Old  Testament  are  Patriotism  and  the  fear  of  God. 
They  blended  in  the  heart  of  Moses.  In  the  wilder- 
ness he  bore  .the  Hebrew  people  in  his  heart.  Relig- 
ious patriotism  stimulated  his  genius,  supported  him 
in  perplexities,  and  made  the  desert  gfeen.  When 
at  last  he  stood  upon  Mount  Pisgah,  and  looked  upon 
that  rich  landscape  of  Palestine,  which  his  sand- 
stained  feet  must  not  press,  its  loveliness  wore  a  tinge 
of  beauty,  which  the  sunbeams  could  not  shed,  from 
the  thought  that  there  the  ignorant  people  for  whom 
he  had  toiled  should  have  a  home,  and  begin  their 
mysterious  mission  among  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

The  story  of  Samuel,  whose  heart,  will,  prayers, 
wisdom,  and  virtue  were  for  his  countrymen,  is  a 
lesson  of  Patriotism.  Pointing  to  that  name,  the 
Jew  may  now  dispute  with  us,  against  the  career  of 
Washington,  for  the  honor  of  giving  to  the  race  the 
model  patriot.  When  we  pronounce  the  name  of 
David,  we  think  of  the  enthusiasm  that  wielded  the 
hero's  sword,  and  touched  the  poet's  harp,  for  the 


THOMAS  STARR   KING.  25 

son,  were  listening  in  silence  and  in  tears  to  touch- 
ing words  by  his  brethren  in  the  ministry,  in  a  Union 
commemorative  service,  —  when  lines  of  creed  and 
sect  were  forgotten,  —  the  noble  society  on  the  Pacific 
shore  were  placing  beneath  the  monument  raised 
by  his  own  divine  energies  all  that  was  mortal  of 
Thomas  Starr  King. 

God  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lambs  off  there ! 
But  let  the  sacred  sorrow  under  the  roof  that  filial 
piety  so  long  provided,  light  up  with  joy  for  a  son 
and  a  brother  whose  life  was  without  a  stain,  and 
whose  name  is  among  the  immortals. 


PATRIOTISM,  AND  OTHER  PAPERS. 


PATBIOTISM.  37 

and  geography,  what  it  could  do  naturally  and  best 
for  humanity,  and  seizing  on  the  traditional  elements 
that  are  in  harmony  with  that  possibility,  use  them 
to  enliven  its  own  sympathies,  and  quicken  the 
nation's  energy.  A  pure  forward  look  is  essential  to 
patriotism.  The  patriot  must  express  the  genius  of 
his  land  in  miniature. 

From  this  point  we  see  the  patriotism  of  Paul.  His 
countrymen  denounced  him.  They  said  that  he  had 
cut  the  ties  which  bound  him  to  his  race,  because  he 
preached  that  Moses  was  not  the  highest  and  final 
religious  teacher.  He  slighted  the  temple-worship 
and  labored  zealously  for  the  new  sect  of  Nazarenes, 
and  the  Jews,  wherever  he  travelled,  echoed  the  cry 
of  the  priestly  party  in  Jerusalem,  that  he  was  a 
traitor  to  the  traditions  of  his  fathers,  and  an  enemy 
of  the  Hebrews.  But  the  noblest  patriotic  spirit  was 
in  him.  In  that  respect,  he  may  be  safely  copied  by 
those  who  love  their,  country  in  every  age.  He  saw 
what  was  the  mission  of  the  Hebrew  race.  He  read 
clearly  God's  hieroglyphic  message  to  them,  written 
over  the  face  of  their  providential  past.  He.  saw 
that  they  were  an  organized  hope,  that  they  existed 
to  bear  new  religions  from  their  bosom,  and  send 
forth  at  last,  the  perfect  faith  that  should  sway  and 
mould  the  world.  He  saw  that  it  was  to  be  their 
glory  to  lose  themselves,  in  the  benefit  they  carried 
to  the  nations,  as  the  snow  upon  the  mountain-tops 
melts  into  the  rills  that  dispense  fertility  to  many 
meadows.  Paul  did  not  believe  that  he  could  im- 
prove God's  design  in  raising  the  chosen  nation,  or 


38  PATRIOTISM. 

could  permanently  alter  it.  And  in  working  for  the 
cause  he  adopted,  in  preferring  the  then  despised 
Messiah  to  the  pomp  of  the  ritual  faith  and  the  de- 
crees of  the  Sanhedrim,  he  was  in  the  line  of  sym- 
pathy with  the  patriotism  of  the  past.  The  Apostle 
to  the  Gentiles  in  taking  a  course  so  radical,  which 
diverged  so  widely  from  the  popular  path,  was  the 
purest  Hebrew,  —  in  truth  the  very  "  Pharisee  of 
the  Pharisees,"  for  he  was  on  the  track  which  God 
designed  the  whole  nation1  to  take,  and  was  laboring 
to  perfect  for  his  countrymen  the  promises  and  aspi- 
rations which,  for  ages,  through  prophets  and  poets, 
had  burst  from  the  nation's  heart.  Paul  was  so 
loyal  to  his  people  that  he  braved  their  ignorance  and 
bigotry  in  order  to  secure  the  fulfilment  of  the 
national  calling,  and  so  attached  to  his  blood  and 
race  as  to  feel  keenly  his  isolation  from,  their  sympa- 
thy, and  to  be  willing  to  sacrifice  himself,  —  every- 
thing but  his  country's  mission,  —  even  to  be 
"  accursed  from  Christ  for  his  brethren,  his  kinsmen 
according  to  the  flesh." 

We  may  well  lament  that  so  many  counterfeits  of 
this  noble  virtue  have  brought  the  reality  into  suspi- 
cion ;  that  those  who  have  arrogated  it  have  so  often 
shown  only  the  qualities  of  the  demagogue,  and 
under  its  sanction  thrown  off  allegiance  to  truth  and 
righteousness ;  for  in  our  own  land,  hi  this  juncture 
of  human  history,  and  especially  in  this  crisis  of  our 
own  national  experience,  we  need  the  virtue  of 
patriotism.  We  need  it  as  an  offshoot  from  the  spirit 
of  reverence  to  God  and  of  Christian  consecration. 


PATRIOTISM.  39 

We  have  everything  in  our  position,  our  history, 
our  advantages  and  calling,  to  justify,  stimulate,  and 
foster  such  a  feeling.  The  old  Jew  could  exclaim 
proudly,  even  in  times  of  calamity,  "  he  hath  not 
dealt  so  with  any  nation,"  and  could  thank  God 
more  fervently  than  for  all  more  private  mercies, 
that  he  \vas  born  a  Jew.  If  he  travelled  into  any 
other  country,  he  went  trailing  the  glory  of  a  mirac- 
ulous past,  that  dwarfed  the  visible  magnificence 
of  the  monuments  amid  which  he  stood,  and  with 
the  thrill  of  cheering  prophecies  in  his  breast. ' 

Were  we  to  select  the  two  lines  of  history  that 
afford  the  most  striking  evidence  of  divine  guidance 
in  the  affairs  of  men,  they  should  be,  first,  the 
record  of  the  Patriarchal,  Jewish,  and  Christian 
religions  in  their  successive  developments ;  and, 
secondly,  the  history  of  America  from  its  discovery, 
down  through  the  persecution  of  the  Puritans,  the 
life  of  Washington,  the  war  of  Independence,  the 
siege  of  Yorktown,  and  the  treaty  of  Paris.  The 
Jewish  race  were  guided  and  guarded,  that  a  uni- 
versal religion  might  -issue  from  their  genius.  Our 
land  seems  consecrated  to  the  office  of  bearing  a 
just  and  faultless  polity  that  shall  educate  the  world. 
Step  by  step,  we  may  parallel  the  providential  mer- 
cies of  the  one  history  by  those  of  the  other.  The 
ca^l  of  Araham  to  a  new  region,  which  God  would 
reclaim  from  barbarism  and  make  the  centre  of 
healthful  and  lasting  influences  upon  humanity,  has 
its  echo  in  the  call  of  Columbus,  in  whose  brain  the 
two  hemispheres  were  welded  into  a  globular  idea. 


40  PATRIOTISM. 

The  leading  of  the  Israelites  through  the  Red  Sea 
has  a  counterpart  in  the  division  of  the  waves,  to  let 
the  little  Mayflower,  with  its  precious  freight  of 
principles  and  souls,  sail  safely  through  the  winter 
storms.  And  the  line  of  Hebrew  heroes  who  fought 
for  a  great  hope,  and  of  prophets  who  towered  at 
intervals  from  the  landscape  of  the  nation's  life,  and 
sent  up  into  literature  the  flame  of  the  nation's  aspi- 
ration, are  not  dishonored,  if  we  compare  with  them 
the  heroic  men  of  our  own  history  who  labored  for 
a  hope,  and  "  builded  better  than  they  knew,"  and 
the  seers  whose  minds  have  glowed  with  the  Ameri- 
can idea. 

Here  we  are,  successors  of  noble  men,  heirs  of  a 
providential  past.  Everything  in  our  history  incites 
to  patriotism.  The  winds  would  fan  it  into  activity. 
Every  page  of  our  annals  preaches  it.  The  man 
who  cannot  thank  God  he  was  born  an  American,  is 
undeserving  the  blessing  of  such  birth.  That  con- 
sciousness, enlivening  the  sensibilities,  should  equal- 
ize fortunes.  The  poor  man  should  not  feel  poor 
when  he  thinks  that  his  humble  roof  and  circum- 
stances are  sheltered  by  a  canopy  of  ideas  and  senti- 
ments, such  as  never  before  arched  over  any  palace 
of  the  world.  If  the  humblest  Catholic  feels  pride 
in  being  one  member  of  a  community  that  stretches 
from  Andes  to  the  Indus,  and  which  has  Christ  ipr 
its  founder  and  heaven  for  its  goal,  the  lowest  citizen 
of  this  land  should  feel  it  an  immense  enlargement  of 
his  being,  —  an  enlargement  which  mere  wealth 
could  never  give,  —  that  he  has  partnership  in  the 


PATRIOTISM.  41 

mission  of  a  people,  along  whom  God  is  pouring  the 
best  life  of  the  past,  enriched  with  additional  streams 
of  inspiration,  solicited  by  our  own  genius,  into  the 
future.  For  the  tendrils  of  our  blessings  stretch  far 
out  into  the  centuries,  and  twine  around  the  most 
precious  elements  of  history  to  draw  nourishment. 
The  human  race  is  vitally  one,  and  whatsoever  is  emi- 
nent or  best,  in  any  line  of  social  manifestation,  is 
somehow  connected  with  other  and  distant  portions 
of  the  common  body  ;  as  the  topmast  branch  of  a  tree 
bears  life,  that  is  due,  in  part,  to  the  health  and  fidel- 
-ity  of  juices  in  the  root,  and  as  the  wave  that  foams 
upon  the  shore,  discharges  an  undulation  that  began 
far  out  upon  the  sea. 

Our  country  is  foremost  in  the  line  of  public  jus- 
tice and  orderly  freedom,  and  therefore  all  the  in- 
fluences which,  in  distant  lands  and  former  centu- 
ries, supported  and  quickened  those  principles,  are 
somehow  represented  in  the  social  blessings  we  en- 
joy. All  that  former  thinkers  have  done  to  justify 
the  principle  of  freedom,  and  heroes  have  achieved 
against  the  oppressions  of  despotism,  and  martyrs 
have  suffered  for  their  perilous  love  of  liberty ;  all 
the  stimulus  which  religion,  in  the  pasf,  has  given 
to  the  heart's  reverence  for  right,  and  the  hand's 
loyalty  to  truth ;  all  that  eloquence  has  done  to 
make  tyranny  tremble-,  and  fan  the  popular  sense  of 
justice  to  a  flame ;  all  that  literature  has  preserved, 
in  treatise,  song,  or_  drama,  of  past  devotion  to 
liberty,  and  longing  for  its  triumph,  are  related,  and 
have  contributed  to  our  success  in  the  structure  of 


42  PATRIOTISM. 

a  social  polity.  We  may  properly  enjoy  the  pride, 
if  we  will  be  faithful  to  the  privilege,  of  bearing  in 
our  institutions  the  best  thought  and  life  of  the  past, 
concerning  public  justice  and  social  welfare. 

Well  did  our  eminent  statesman  say  in  a  public 
address  in  Boston  a  few  weeks  since,  "  if  a  man  is 
living  here  who  has  not  an  American  heart  in  his 
bosom,  let  him  tear  it  out."  Surely  if  there  is  a 
man  in  this  land  who  deliberately  slights  the  senti- 
ment of  patriotism,,  and  is  conscious  of  no  pride  in 
his  country,  as  a  distinct  affection,  no  devotion  to  his 
country,  no  feeling  of  deep  interest  in  his  country  in 
unsettled  times  and  shadowed  hours,  no  impulse  to 
sacrifice  himself  and  all  personal  interest  for  his 
country's  benefit,  he  has  a  heart  that  needs  to  be 
waked  from  paralysis  and  inspired  with  gratitude 
by  religion  itself. 

'  And  it  is  a  striking  glory  of  our  land  that  the 
patriotism  it  asks  for  is  of  the  highest  stamp.  The 
sentiment  must  here  be  stripped  of  every  quality 
which  has  hitherto  brought  it  into  suspicion,  or  it 
cannot  be  American.  If  a  person  is  afraid  of  nar- 
rowing his  soul  by  cherishing  any  restricted  affec- 
tion, we  offer  him  here  a  domain  whose  breadth  is 
from  Aroostook  to  San  Francisco,  and  its  depth 
from  Minnesota  to  the  reefs  of  Florida ;  and  if  this 
area  is  not  large  enough,  and  does  not  comprehend 
needs  and  interests  enough,  to  satisfy  his  affectional 
hunger  and  exhaust  the  philanthropic  resources  of 
his  heart,  he  has  a  genius  for  love  that  would  jus- 
tify the  description  once  given  by  a  countryman  of 


PATRIOTISM.  43 

ours  of  the  boundless  aspirations  of  the  soul,  "  We 
wake  in  the  morning  with  an  appetite  that  could 
take  in  the  solar  system  like  a  cake ;  we  stretch 
out  our  hand  to  grasp  the  morning  star,  and  wrestle 
with  Orion."  To  a  mind  of  ordinary  capacity,  the 
extent  of  our  territory  and  the  various  needs  of 
our  population,  furnish  as  fine  a  temptation,  cer- 
tainly, as  can  well  be  offered,  for  the  exercise  of 
the  sentiment  of  universal  brotherhood. 

And  when  we  define  Patriotism  as  the  sentiment 
of  devotion  to  the  idea  which  a  nation  is  called  to 
typify,  we  strip  American  patriotism  of  every  ele- 
ment which  makes  it  possible  in  a  selfish  dema- 
gogue, or  repulsive  to  the  most  sensitive  Christian 
mind.  For  three  things  are  plainly  indicated  in 
the  characteristics  and  posture  of  our  country,  as 
portion  of  the  divine  intention,  and  of  the  divine 
instructions  to  us.  First,  God  has  placed  us  on  a 
fresh  continent,  separated  by  oceans  from  the  ambi- 
tion, plans,  inteference,  and  diplomacy  of  the  Old 
World,  with  no  enemy  near  us,  in  order  that  we 
might  read  in  our  position  the  instruction  to  sheathe 
the  sword  and  live  in  peace.  The  war-spirit  and 
the  patriotism  that  cherishes  it,  are  denounced  with 
sufficient  intensity  for  their  barbartiy  and  shameless- 
ness  in  other  lands,  by  the  temper  of  the  gospel ; 
but  with  us  geography  also  denounces  them,  and 
declares  them  to  be  the  very  idiocy  of  ruffianism. 
As  though  sick  of  blood,  and  the  order  and  civiliza- 
tion it  purchases,  Heaven  has  colonized  this  land  and 
whispered  to  us  solemnly,  —  Let  sundered  Europe 


44  PATRIOTISM. 

drench  itself  with  gore,  if  it  cannot  learn  the  econ- 
omy and  beauty  of  friendship,  but  here  the  sword 
should  be  unknown.  Offensive  war  cannot  be  justi- 
fied here  on  any  pretence.  You  are  strong  enough 
to  be  magnaminious  in  controversies,  to  appeal  to 
arbitration  in  complicated  diplomacy,  to  suffer  wrong 
in  cases  of  pecuniary  and  material  interest,  and  ex- 
hibit the  grace  of  endurance  and  forgiveness.  His- 
tory will  adjudge  you  guilty  of  the  last  abomination, 
if  you  draw  the  sword  —  and  thus  contribute  to 
debauch  still  further  the  code  of  honor  among  na- 
tions —  in  any  other  crisis  than  the  final  necessity 
of  self-defence  against  invasion,  -and  the  call  thus  to 
defend  your  commissioned  ideas. 

And  secondly,  the  Almighty  has  given  us  a  do- 
main that  may  be  the  seed-field  of  the  globe,  mines 
that  may  enrich  all  nations,  and  streams  that  should 
fill  the  air  with  the  hum  of  wheels,  and  thus  has 
sought  to  redeem  us  from  the  appetite  for  territorial 
aggrandizement,  and  has  consecrated  us  to  every  art 
and  all  varieties  of  industry.  He  has  written  upon 
every  prairie,  and  enscrolled  by  the  winds  upon  the 
surface  of  every  lake  and  river,  the  command  to 
beat  swords  into  ploughshares,  and  spears  into  prun- 
ing-hooks,  and  to  turn  all  the  genius  that  is  capable 
of  being  wasted  in  military  art,  to  a  scientific  contest 
with  the  rocks  that  bar  the  free  communion  of  traf- 
fic, and  the  inoiiiitains  that  interpose  to  make-ene- 
mies of  states. 

And  thirdly,  God  has  entrusted  to  us  the  idea  of 
political  equality,  and  of  the  citizen  as  superior  to 


PATRIOTISM.  45 

the  state,  for  whose  culture  the  state  exists,  and  has 
commanded  us  to  unfold  it,  and  exhaust  its  capa- 
city of  development  in  progressive  institutions. 
Peace ,  Industry,  and  cultured  freedom  are  the  warp 
of  our  country's  mission,  and  there  can  be  no  patri- 
otism on  these  shores  that  does  not  acknowledge 
them,  seek  to  deepen  the  passion  of  our  people  for 
them,  extend  their  blessings,  and  confirm  their  sway. 
The  temper  of  our  public  spirit  should  benefit,  by 
its  calmness,  breadth,  justice,  and  comprehensive- 
ness, the  scale  of  the  land  we  represent  and  rule. 
"To  men  legislating  for  the  area  between  two  oceans, 
betwixt  the  snows  and  the  tropics,  somewhat  of  the 
gravity  of  nature  will  infuse  itself  into  the  code. 
It  seems  so  easy  for  America  to  inspire  and  express 
the  most  expansive  and  humane  spirit,  —  new-born, 
fresh,  healthful,  strong,  the  land  of  the  laborer,  of 
the  democrat,  of  the  philanthropist,  of  the  believer, 
of  the  saint,  she  should  speak  for  the  human  race." 
Patriotism  is  unselfish  devotion  to  the  idea  of  a 
nation,  its  heaven-inspired  soul,  its  representative 
office  and  mission.  And  anything  lower  than  this 
form  of  it  here,  any  interpretation  of  it  equivalent 
to  a  defence  of  every  act  of  every  administration, 
even  when  that  act  does  violence  to  the  spirit  of  our 
history  and  the  providential  pointings  of  our  call,  is 
a  disgrace  to  ourselves,  an  abuse  of  a  noble  word, 
and  an  offence  before  God.  If  a  country  such  as 
ours  is  to  raise  no  loftier,  no  more  heroic  type  of 
national  virtue  than  that,  our  fertile  zones  will 
indeed  be  barren  of  attractive  fruit.  Then  we  may 


46  PATBIOTISM. 

say,  here  is  America,  but  where  are  the  Americans  ? 
Then,— 

"  When  we  climb  our  mountain  cliffs, 
Or  see  the  wide  shore  from  our  skiffs, 
To  us  the  horizon  shall  express 
Mere  emptiness  and  emptiness. 
And  to  our  eyes  the  vast  skies  fall, 
Dire  and  satirical, 
On  clucking  hens  and  prating  fools, 
On  thieves,  on  drudges,  and  on  dolls; 
For  Nature  has  miscarried  wholly 
Into  failure,  into  folly." 

Moreover,  a  lower  type  of  patriotism  than  that  of 
insight  into,  and  devotion  to  the  representative,  or 
ideal  country  of  which  our  land  is  the  projection, 
with  us  is  little  else  than  suicide.  Never  was  there 
a  people  whom  it  so  behooved  to  be  patriotic  in  the 
highest  sense ;  for  our  patriotism  is  daily  passing  into 
fact,  and  becoming  part  of  the  nation's  substance. 
We  vote  it,  we  speak  it,  we  incarnate  it  in  the  men 
we  select  to  act  for  us.  New  States,  almost  while 
we  are  reading  these  pages,  are  rising  to  have  a 
voice  in  the  highest  councils  of  the  Republic,  and 
from  their  ideas  of  what  this  country  is  for,  and  from 
the  quality  of  their  passion  for  it,  the  institutions 
are  springing  which  will  mould,  or  powerfully  con- 
trol, the  budding  intellect  that  will  soon  be  on  the 
stage.  We  are  living  for  the  future.  It  doth  not 
yet  appear  what  we  shall  be.  We  can  say  only  that 
we  are  a  mass  of  tendencies.  And  the  sentiment 
of  patriotism  that  obtains  is  breathing  year  by  year, 
the  life-element  or  the  death-element  into  the  struct- 
ure of  our  land. 


PATRIOTISM.  47 

We  have  said  that  the  form  of  patriotism  which 
could  harbor  in  the  most  Christian  breast  is  called 
for,  and  is  the  only  one  that  is  justified  by  the  situ- 
ation and  the  manifest  destiny  of  our  country.  We 
may  also  say  that  such  a  form  of  patriotism  is 
nourished  and  expected  by  the  traditions  upon 
which  the  lower  forms  of  patriotism  usually  feed. 
It  is  a  beautiful  fact  that  the  record  and  the  mem- 
ories of  our  revolutionary  strife  foster  all  grades  of 
the  patriotic  sentiment.  They  stir  the  blood  and 
the  brain.  They  thrill  the  senses  and  satisfy  the 
imagination.  The  plain  of  Concord,  where  "  the 
embattled  farmers  stood,"  and  the  shaft  that  over- 
looks the  metropolis  from  a  neighboring  city,  tell 
a  story  that  awakens  a  love  of  country  in  the 
plough-boy,  while  they  quicken  the  faith  of  the  Chris- 
tian and  the  philosopher  in  the  reality  of  principles, 
the  influence  of  heroic  self-sacrifice  that  counts  no 
cost,  and  the  power  of  ideas.  The  non-resistant 
peace-man,  though  his  ear  would  throb  with  pain  to 
hear  the  roar  of  musketry,  that  disturbed  the  air 
about  us  seventy-five  years  ago,  loves  the  sweet, 
bodiless  echoes  it  has  brought,  and  still  awakens  in 
that  depth  of  time.  And  while  the  passions  of  the 
caucus  in  Middlesex  have,  doubtless,  been  often 
stirred  to  the  worst  dregs,  by  appeals  to  what  the 
fathers  did  when  the  country  was  in  danger,  no 
finer  eloquence  has  vivified  the  air  of  the  National 
Senate  Hall,  than  the  simple  exclamation,  "There  is 
Lexington  and  Concord  and  Bunker  Hill,  and  there 
they  will  remain  forever."  The  unreflective  man  is 


48  PATRIOTISM. 

thrilled  with  the  contagious  enthusiasm  of  our  an- 
cestors, who  would  not  be  trampled  on  by  tyranny, 
and  who  put  their  lives  in  their  hands  to  assert 
their  rights.  The  great  thinker  sees  the  meaning  of 
those  three  spots  in  the  stormy  history  of  the  world, 
and  how  ideas  were  liberated  from  the  shock  of  steel 
and  the  battle-smoke,  which  have  since  changed  the 
destiny  of  the  world.  And  while  we  may  catch  the 
physical  enthusiasm  from  the  determined  spirit 
with  which,  on  the  bloody  fields,  our  fathers  resisted 
unto  death,  our  patriotism  must  be  inspired  by  the 
ideas  which  redeem  those  fields  from  the  insignifi- 
cance of  skirmishes  and  the  depravity  of  butchery, 
and  must  pledge  itself  to  establish  and  unfold  them 
in  our  country,  according  to  the  new  needs  and  in- 
vitations of  our  age. 

If  the  glory  of  the  foundation  of  our  land  was  in 
the  establishment  of  a  principle,  the  glory  of  its  his- 
tory must  consist  in  the  unfolding  of  that  principle. 
True  patriotism,  therefore,  which  labors  to  keep  a 
nation  faithful  to  its  mission,  cannot  be  satisfied 
here  unless  the  idea  of  human  worth  and  privilege 
that  awakened  and  supported  our  political  struggle, 
ripen  and  produce  their  finest  spiritual  fruit.  In 
this  respect  the  growth  of  our  country  should  be 
like  that  of  an  endogenous  tree;  the  gradual  de- 
velopment of  the  life-principle  at  the  centre  mani- 
festing itself  in  the  nourishment  of  new  products, 
throwing  the  old  results,  year  by  year,  farther  out 
into  history,  till  the  political  effects  of  the  Revolu- 
tion become  the  gnarled  root,  and  tall,  hardy  stem, 


PATRIOTISM.  49 

which  preserve  and  defend  the  active  inward  forces, 
that  now  unfold  in  leaves  and  blossoms,  and  an- 
nounce the  harvest.  In  the  peace  movement,  the 
temperance  reform,  the  judicious  and  practicable 
schemes  for  the  abolition  of  bondage,  the  attempts 
to  discover  a  more  Christian  organization  of  so- 
ciety ;  —  in  every  association  and  all  effort  that  seek 
the  highest  welfare  of  man,  and  prepare  the  way 
for  his  free  culture  and  rightful  enjoyment,  as  a 
creature  of  God,  the  American  idea  justifies  itself 
and  culminates ;  and  by  strengthening  this  tenden- 
cy, and  only  thus,  can  Patriotism  be  faithful  to  its 
law,  and  vindicate  its  nature. 

Every  mention  of  the  ideas  to  which  our  land  is 
consecrated,  and  of  the  importance  of  its  mission, 
calls  up  the  crisis  which  we  have  recently  passed 
through,  and  the  danger  with  which,  it  is  said,  our 
land  was  threatened.  Patriotism  has  learned  to 
pronounce  with  emphasis  the  word  Union.  It  is  a 
hallowed  word  to  it.  It  does  not  like  to  hesitate  in 
uttering  it.  It  has  no  desire  that  its  tongue  should 
falter  with  it,  or  merely  to  lisp  its  utterance.  But 
there  is  danger  in  our  reactionary  eloquence  that, 
in  eulogies  of  union  and  assertions  that  we  must 
have  it,  we  overlook  or  too  slightly  estimate  the 
conditions  of  union.  This  country  has  an  ideal 
character,  a  representative  value.  Its  mountains 
were  upheaved,  its  rivers  were  grooved,  its  prairies 
unrolled,  its  night-skies  bent,  for  the  home  of  an 
idea.  Its  glory  cannot  spring  from  vast  extent, 
populousness,  power,  and  wealth,  but  from  the  un- 


50      „  PATRIOTISM. 

questioned  dominion  -of  an  idea.  If  we  are  to  be 
one,  we  must  have  a  great  undying  sentiment. 
"  Liberty  and  Union,  now  and  forever,  one  and  in- 
separable ; "  that  is  the  marriage-vow,  that  alone 
can  be  the  marriage-bond.  We  cannot  vote  our- 
selves together,  we  cannot  keep  ourselves  together 
merely  by  cultivating  superficial,  or  commercial 
good  feeling.  The  unity  of  our  nation  —  the  most 
marvellous  and  splendid  organism  of  history  —  may 
stand  forever  unshaken  by  the  diversities  of  climate 
which  it  includes,  by  the  variety  of  material  inter- 
ests—  commerce,  agriculture,  industry  —  which  it 
enfolds ;  may  indeed  be  all  the  stronger  for  the 
twisting  of  so  many  strands  :  but  though  nature 
made  our  vast  landscape  one  ;  though  it  be  inter- 
locked by  rivers,  railways,  and  canals ;  though  it 
be  vascular  with  myriad  arteries  of  human  skill; 
though  the  geographer  may  find  no  place  where  he 
can  split  our  country,  the  strife  of  hostile  ideas  will 
rend  it  as  the  valley  yawns  by  the  wrench  of  the 
earthquake.  It  is  the  office  of  Patriotism  to  see 
this  and  to  say  it,  —  to  say  plainly  and  solemnly 
that  no  political  unity,  no  charter  however  wisely 
concocted,  or  defended  by  the  most  stalwart  mental 
muscles,  can  stand  before  the  fierce  and  equal  com- 
bat of  two  mutually  destructive  principles.  There 
is  no  treason  no  lack  of  patriotism  in  saying  this, 
unless  it  is  unpatriotic  to  say  that  chemical  wraths 
will  not  combine,  and  that  powder  and  fire  will 
not  marry  peaceably. 

We  need  the  feeling  of  brotherhood  ;  we  need  to 


PATRIOTISM.  51 

be  knit  together  in  ties  of  cordial  amity ;  but  no 
amity  can  be  manufactured  where  the  laws  of  spirit- 
ual affinity  interpose  a  ban.  Whatever  peculiarities 
of  State  institution,  however  wrong  and  heinous, 
exist  in  the  separate  members  of  the  confederacy, 
let  them  keep,  undisturbed  by  interference  from 
other  States,  till  they  choose  to  abolish  them  them- 
selves. Whatever  laws  are  demanded  by  a  just  and 
strict  construction  of  the  central  compact,  let  them 
have,  so  long  as  we  profess  to  have  that  charter,  and 
let  them  not  be  forcibly  resisted.  But,  though  the 
sun  now  breaks  through  the  recent  cloudy  screen,  if 
peace,  harmony,  and  strength  are  to  bless  our  nation, 
there  is  one  direction  in  which  we  must  not  go  be- 
yond the  letter  of  the  bond.  The  "  pound  of  flesh," 
but  not  a  tittle  more  must  be  asked,  not  another 
fraction  can  be  granted,  not  so  much  as  will  "  turn 
the  scale  even  in  the  estimation  of  a  hair."  What 
is  local  must  be  local.  The  inward,  vivifying  prin- 
ciple of  our  government  must  be  sympathy  with 
liberty ;  its  attitude  must  be  respect  for  liberty  ;  the 
spread  of  its  domain  must  be  under  the  sanction 
and  for  the  ends  of  liberty,  or  the  inspiring  senti- 
ment of  union  and  the  bond  of  unity,  that  which 
filled  the  hearts  and  quickened  the  intellects  of  the 
noble  men  who  built  our  Constitution,  that  which 
gives  glory  and  renown  to  our  charter,  will  wither 
and  die. 

"Behold,"  said  David,  "how  good  and  how 
pleasant  it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity." 
But  if  the  tune  is  to  come  when  a  large  section  of 


52  PATRIOTISM. 

our  land  insist  that  human  bondage  is  to  be  sanc- 
tioned and  extended  wherever  our  banner  and  our 
eagles  go  ;  that  the  haggard  genius  of  oppression 
must  sit  with  equal  privilege  and  honor  with  the 
spirit  of  freedom  in  the  exalted  seats  of  our  confed- 
eracy, then  —  I  utter  only  the  simplest  lesson  of 
science  —  then  there  can  be  no  unity,  for  we  shall 
no  more  be  brethren ;  the  gulf  of  antagonistic  ideas 
will  divide  us  ;  the  nerve  of  patriotism,  in  the  best 
souls,  will  be  shrivelled  ;  for  the  ideal  beauty  of  our 
nation  will  be  expunged,  its  hovering  genius  will 
flee,  and  there  will  be  no  America  to  serve  ;  and  our 
glory,  whose  auroral  promise  tinges  our  first  annals, 
and  whose  beams  are  now  gilding  the  mountain-tops, 
will  be  stained  with  blood,  and  finally  pale.  Then, 
while  he  looks  back  and  sees,  as  Paul  saw  in  the 
past  of  his  nation,  that  unto  us  pertaineth  the  adop- 
tion, and  the  glory,  and  the  covenants,  and  the  prom- 
ise, and  the  fathers,  and  looks  around  to  see  the 
fatal  faithlessness  of  the  children  to  the  divine  idea 
and  the  providential  intimations  of  the  past,  the  only 
utterance  of  patriotism  that  will  be  possible,  from 
the  Christian  breast,  will  be  the  sorrowful  exclama- 
tion of  Paul,  "  I  could  wish  that  I  were  accursed 
from  Christ  for  my  brethren,  my  kinsmen  according 
to  the  flesh." 

We  conclude,  then,  by  saying  that  patriotism  is 
not  only  a  legitimate  sentiment,  but  a  duty.  There 
are  countless  reasons  why,  as  Americans,  we  should 
love  our  native  land.  We  may  feel  no  scruples,  as 
Christians,  in  welcoming  and  nourishing  a  peculiar 


PATRIOTISM.  53 

affection  for  its  winds  and  soil,  its  coasts  and  hills, 
its  memories  and  its  flag.  We  cannot  more  effi- 
ciently labor  for  the  good  of  all  men,  than  by  pledg- 
ing heart,  brain,  and  hands  to  the  service  of  keeping 
our  country  true  to  its  mission,  obedient  to  its  idea. 
Our  patriotism  must  draw  its  nutriment  and  derive 
its  impulse  from  knowledge  and  love  of  the  ideal 
America,  as  yet  but  partially  reflected  in  our  institu- 
tions, or  in  the  general  mind  of  the  Republic.  Thus 
quickened,  it  will  be  both  pure  and  practical.  The 
agency  of  an  overruling  and  friendly  power  is  sug- 
gested by  the  study  of  the  critical  seasons  of  our 
past  history.  But  our  patriarchal  and  heroic  periods 
have  passed.  Having  endowed  us  with  the  means 
of  our  own  development,  the  divine  agency  retreats 
to  leave  the  field  for  human  responsibility.  We  can- 
not rely  for  our  honors  or  safety  upon  the  past ; 
with  the  principle  we  must  reject  the  privileges  of 
primogeniture.  We  are  here,  by  favor,  to  a  vast  and 
noble  work.  "  To  whom  much  is  given,  of  him  will 
much  be  required."  We  may  feel,  as  we  look  upon 
our  territory,  which  exhibits  every  zone,  and  repre- 
sents lands  that  invite  all  varieties  of  industry,  that 
God  grooved  our  noble  rivers,  and  stretched  our 
prairies  on  their  level  base,  and  unrolled  our  rich 
savannahs,  and  reared  the  pomp  of  our  forests,  and 
washed  the  long  line  of  our  coasts  with  generous 
ocean  waves,  and  wove  all  these  diversities  into  one, 
to  be  the  home  of  no  mean  people,  and  the  theatre 
of  no  paltry  destiny.  The  world  waits  to  see  the 


54  PATRIOTISM. 

quality  and  energy  of  our  patriotism.  The  book  of 
our  country's  history,  preserved  by  human  heroism 
and  providential  care,  is  handed  to  us,  that  we 
may  inscribe  there  the  records  of  its  glory,  or  its 
shame. 


II. 

WASHINGTON,  OR  GREATNESS. 


MOST  people  love  to  look  on  a  great  man.  It  is 
an  epoch  in  the  lives  of  persons,  when  they  first  be- 
hold some  of  the  greatest  natural  sublimities  or  beau- 
ties of  the  material  creation,  such  as  the  "  White 
Mountains,"  "  Niagara,"  a  "  Storm  at  Sea,"  the 
"  Bay  of  Naples,"  or  an  "  Italian  Sunset ;  "  but  there 
is  no  landscape,  or  range  of  hills,  that  can  afford  so 
clear  a  manifestation  of  the  divine  wisdom,  good- 
ness, and  glory,  as  is  revealed  to  us  through  the  faces 
and  the  works  of  the  eminent  men  of  the  world. 
"  The  word  made  flesh  "  takes  rank  of  all  the  forms 
of  the  word,  as  it  is  revealed  in  globe,  or  star,  or  sky. 
I  should  like  to  look  up  'to  Mont  Blanc,  from  the 
valley  of  Chamouni,  or  stand  under  the  shadow  of 
the  Pyramids,  or  see  the  panorama  that  stretches  be- 
neath the  summits  of  the  Andes,  but  should  prefer 
of  the  two,  to  pass  an  hour  with  Plato,  to  study  the 
beauty  of  Milton's  countenance,  to  have  seen  the  ex- 
pression of  Shakspeare  just  as  Hamlet  was  completed, 
or  to  have  stood  among  the  circle  that  heard  the 
apostle  Paul  at  Lystra,  or  that  listened  to  his  defence 
before  Agrippa  in  the  city  of  Cesarea. 

65 


56  WASHINGTON,   OR   GREATNESS. 

Next  to  the  sight  of  great  persons,  the  ideal  knowl- 
edge of  them  is  interesting  and  important,  through 
careful  study  of  their  careers.  The  way  to  keep  up 
our  faith  in  virtue,  if  it  flags,  and  to  enlarge  our  con- 
ception of  greatness,  if  it  shrivels,  is  to  turn  from 
the  small  proportions  of  the  souls  about  us,  and  our 
own  easy  defeats,  and  go  into  the  society  of  the  emi- 
nent servants  of  truth  and  right,  whose  devotion 
cannot  be  questioned,  and  whose  biographies  are  ]ike 
suns  in  the  firmanent  of  history. 

We  need  continually  to  be  refreshed  as  to  the  rela- 
tions of  the  moral  element,  of  goodness,  to  human 
greatness.  Every  man  was  made  to  be  a  subject. 
There  is  law  in  the  universe,  law  for  men  as  well  as  for 
things  ;  and  there  is  no  majestic  greatness  or  endur- 
ing force  except  in  the  line  of  law.  No  piece  of  rock, 
no  gem,  no  river,  no  mountain,  could  have  any  beauty, 
usefulness,  or  power,  outside  the  laws  of  order  that 
entwine  the  globe.  Let  anything  'in  nature  set  up 
for  itself  and  refuse  to  obey,  and  it  is  weak  and  good 
for  nothing.  We  hear  a  great  deal  said  about  instinct 
self-reliance,  and  the  virtue  of  impulse  and  disposi- 
tion. It  is  true  that  the  saintly  goodness  consists  in 
this,  but  it  is  a  virtue  that  the  soul  attains  and  ends 
with.  Every  man  must  apply  a  law  to  himself,  be- 
fore he  can  be  a  law  to  himself.  Weeds  are  spontane- 
ous, fruit  is  cultivated.  It  does  not  depend  on  a 
man's  virtues,  whether  he  shall  be  distinguished,  but 
it  does  depend  on  them  whether  he  is  great. 

We  must  make  a  clear  discrimination,  and  keep  it 
ever  in  mind,  between  distinction  and  greatness. 


WASHINGTON,   OR   GREATNESS.  57 

Some  persons  have  one  power  or  faculty  of  our 
nature,  in  greater  prominence  than  the  average  of 
of  the  world,  and  we  call  them  great  because  of  it. 
One  man  has  more  strength,  or  more  mechanical 
skill,  or  more  of  mercantile  sagacity,  or  more  fluent 
utterance,  or  a  more  fertile  brain  than  ordinary 
men.  If  there  was  no  moral  truth,  or  moral  law  in* 
the  world,  we  might  decide  the  greatness  of  men,  as 
most  persons  do  now  decide  it,  not  at  all  by  the  uses 
to  which  men  put  their  faculties,  but  simply  by  the 
degree  in  which  they  possess  certain  powers. 

Some  men  are  distinguished  also  by  a  certain  fine- 
ness of  quality ;  their  sensibilities  and  their  brain 
seem  to  be  made  of  more  delicate  and  subtile  mate- 
rial. Poets  and  artists  are  distinguished  thus. 
Others~  again,  rise  above  the  level  of  capacity,  by  the 
quantity  of  their  nature  and  attributes.  They  have 
vastly  more  of  the  common  qualities  which  other 
men  possess,  such  as  prudence,  steadiness,  common 
sense,  and  are  eminent  by  their  mass  of  substance. 
But  before  the  word  "  greatness  "  can  be  applied  to 
any  of  these,  the  question  must  be  asked,  "  What  do 
they  do  with  their  qualities  ?  how  do  they  rule  them? 
in  what  service  are  they  employed  ?  " 

In  the  light  of  these  principles  it  is  very  easy  to 
see  the  line  in  which  Washington  was  great.  He 
was  not  distinguished  from  others  by  the  great  pre- 
ponderance of  any  one  faculty.  It  is  said  of  some 
great  men  that'  they  would  have  been  equally  emi- 
nent in  many  other  careers.  Thus  Napoleon,  or 
Caesar,  might  have  been  a  great  orator,  poet,  mathe- 


58  WASHINGTON,   OR  GEEATNESS. 

matician,  engineer.  But  Washington  would  not  in 
any  line  have  been  a  brilliant  man.  No  culture  prob- 
ably could  have  brought  any  one  power  of  his  na- 
ture into  such  distinction  that  it  could  be  eminent 
in  a  circle  of  the  most  gifted  minds  which  his  coun- 
try or  his  age  produced.  As  a  speaker,  a  writer,  a 
scholar,  he  could  have  been  faithful  and  respectable, 
but  not  remarkable,  not  brilliant,  and  in  no  sense  origi- 
nal. Neither  did  he  have  the  second  element  of  dis- 
tinction, that  is,  a  peculiar  fineness  of  quality  or 
organization.  Of  all  that  passes  for  genius  in  the  do- 
main of  artistic  creation,  he  was  destitute.  A  subtile 
thought,  an  acute  distinction,  a  delicate  perception, 
a  line  and  elusive  emotion,  —  anything  connected 
with  the  poet's  sensibility  or  the  poetic  capacity,  he 
was  debarred  from  by  temperament.  The  distinc- 
tion of  Washington  was  the  great  bulk  and  compact- 
ness of  his  practical  powers,  the  solidity,  the  strength, 
and  the  poise  of  those  faculties,  which  we  do  not 
usually  associate  with  genius,  but  which  are  the  spir- 
itual substratum  of  every  nature  that  is  called  effi- 
cient and  reliable  for  systematic  and  practical  work 
in  society.  The  remark  which  Patrick  Henry  made, 
after  his  return  from  the  first  Continental  Congress, 
to  a  person  who  asked  him  who  was  the  greatest  man 
in  that  body,  comes  in  play  here.  "  If  you  mean 
who  is  the  greatest  orator,  Mr.  Rutledge  of  South 
Carolina  is,  no  doubt,  the  most  eloquent  man ;  but 
for  solid  information  and  sound  judgment,  Col. 
Washington  is  unquestionably  the  greatest  man  on 
the  floor."  He  was  great,  that  is,  distinguished  from 


WASHINGTON,   OR  GREATNESS.  59 

other  men,  by  the  mass,  gravity,  and  majesty  with  ' 
which,  by  nature,  the  strong  qualities  of  our  human- 
ity were  aggregated  in  him. 

But  this  does  not  define  his  greatness  in  the  true 
sense  of  that  word,  that  is,  in.  the  sense  which  every 
Christian  man  should  use  it.  With  this  large  quan- 
tity of  being,  Washington  could  not  long  have  played 
a  subordinate  or  trivial  part  in  practical  life,  but  he 
might  have  made  his  energy  and  power  of  influence 
ministers  of  his  own  aggrandizement  in  startling 
ways,  and  at  the  expense  of  general  welfare.  It  is  one 
of  the  first  elements  of  his  greatness  to  be  noted  and 
to  be  revered,  that  his  powers  were  subjected  to  a 
rigid  rule.  He  had  great  passions,  but  he  had  iron 
walls  and  reins  of  steel  for  them.  Self-command 
was  his  prominent  trait.  The  lower  flames  of  his 
being  beat  in  vain  against  the  ramparts  of  his  will. 
And  this  self-command  was  not  merely  the  discipline 
of  his  lower  properties,  so  that  they  should  not  inter- 
fere with  his  success.  Many  men,  doubtless,  have 
had  the  power  to  smother  their  flaming  passions  in 
emergencies  by  a  cool  selfishness  ;  but  in  his  case, 
the  will  itself  that  ruled  them  was  loyal  to  an  idea  of 
right,  and  all  the  powers  of  his  nature  were  subor- 
dinated and  systemized  by  the  dominion  over  him 
of  the  law  of  duty.  He  was  a  law-giver  to  himself. 
Prom  the  date  of  his  responsible  years  he  rigidly 
strove  to  put  himself  in  harmony  with  moral  truth, 
learning  to  command  by  being  commanded,  and 
through  obedience  aspiring  to  be  free. 

The  proverb  says, "  He  that  ruleth  his  spirit  is 


60  WASHINGTON,   OR  GBEATNESS. 

better  than  ho  that  taketh  a  city."  A  vast  propor- 
tion of  what  the  world  calls  greatness  has  been  in 
the  line  of  the  strong  passions  of  our  nature ;  the 
spring,  the  power-wheel  of  it,  has  been  some  one  of 
the  unruled,  riotous,  and  degrading  forces  of  the 
soul.  Very  seldom  is  greatness  seen  that  is  based 
on,  and  grows  out  of,  self-rule,  and  the  antecedent 
conquest  of  that  portion  of  hell  that  is  contained  in 
every  human  breast.  If  Washington's  spirit  had 
been  less  orderly,  he  would  doubtless  have  seemed 
greater  to  a  vast  many  who  now  see  nothing  very 
remarkable  in  his  nature,  because  he  would  doubt- 
less have  done  many  things  that  would  have  been 
more  startling  and  would  have  called  forth  more 
applause.  Take,  for  instance,  the  case  of  the  two  men 
—  Caesar  and  Napoleon.  In  contrast  with  the  brill- 
iant story  of  their  victories  and  their  subjugation 
of  great  nations  to  their  will,  the  exploits  of  Wash- 
ington look  meagre  enough.  But  their  successes 
were  all  stimulated  by  selfishness  and  ambition,  and 
were  thus  in  the  direction  of  passions,  whose  gale 
they  trimmed  their  sails  to  take.  It  is  easy  enough 
to  scud  before  the  wind,  but  seamanship  is  oftener 
displayed  in  beating  into  harbor  against  the  breeze, 
around  the  points,  and  among  the  shoals,  than  in  a 
quick  run  across  the  ocean.  Who  knows  what  brill- 
iant achievements  Washington  could  have  surprised 
men  with,  if  his  powers  had  been  wildly  dishevelled, 
and  his  faculties  put  to  the  service  of  lust  for 
dominion  and  aggrandizement  ?  Who  knows  whether 
the  temptations  to  do  just  such  things  as  have  im- 


WASHINGTON,   OR   GREATNESS.  61 

inortalized  the  imperial  geniuses,  did  not  writhe  in 
his  brain  and  swell  his  breast,  to  be  wrestled  down 
and  fettered  ?  If  so,  he  was  greater  than  Napoleon 
or  Alexander,  by  that  rule  of  his  spirit  that  made 
him  refuse  such  distinction  as  theirs.  If  the  temp- 
tation to  be  a  despot  conquered  the  genius  of  Bona- 
parte, and  was  conquered  by  the  soul  of  Washington, 
all  the  splendors  of  the  first  man's  success  only  show 
that,  in  the  region  of  morals,  he  was  magnificently 
weak,  and  the  poverty  of  splendor  in  the  second 
man's  achievements,  prove  him  to  be  magnificently 
strong. 

The  very  word  passion  implies  subjection  and 
submissiveness.  No  human  strength  is  suggested  by 
the  word,  but  the  contrary.  Where  a  passion  is 
violent,  and  speeds  through  the  soul  with  irresistible 
press,  no  matter  what  great  records  of  brilliant  con- 
fusion it  may  leave  in  the  outward  world,  the  man 
himself  has  been  acted  upon  and  swung  as  an  instru- 
ment. The  law-giving,  order-appointing  faculty  at 
the  centre  of  his'  being,  the  will  in  which  the  like- 
ness of  the  Infinite  Ruler  is  reflected,  has  been  con- 
quered, so  that  the  soul  becomes  a  subject  thing, 
and  not  a  monarchical  lord  of  the  forces  in  its  own 
realm.  The  horse  hurries  the  rider  in  the  paths  it 
likes ;  the  mob  invades  the  deliberative  silence  of 
the  Capitol.  .  For  this  reason  it  is  that  "  He  that  is 
slow  to  anger  is  better  than  the  mighty." 

Surely  then  it  is  time  that  we  made  the  most  im- 
portant discrimination  between  the  distinction  that 
comes  from  lawless  yielding  to  the  currents  of  world- 


62         WASHINGTON,  OR  GREATNESS. 

1-j  temptation  and  passion,  and  the  greatness  that  lies 
in  stemming  these  and  working  in  the  line  of  truth, 
usefulness,  and  law.  If  Napoleon  and  Caesar  had 
been  greater  men,  that  is,  truer,  more  loyal  men, 
they  would  surely  have  been  less  brilliantly  distin- 
guished men.  They  would  not  have  jarred  the  globe 
with  the  tread  of  their  armies,  they  might  not  have 
crowned  the  Alps  with  their  banners  and  their 
eagles,  they  would  not  have  made  so  many  homes 
desolate  and  so  many  acres  rich  by  the  slaughter  of 
their  foes,  for  they  would  probably  have  kept  at 
home,  and  labored  to  increase  the  blessings  and  im- 
prove the  civilization  of  their  own  people,  and  the 
record  of  their  battles  would  have  been  limited  to 
those  fought  to  repel  invasion,  or  to  crush  the  out- 
rageous tyranny  of  foreign  despotism.  If  the  pres- 
ent ruler  of  France  were  a  greater  man  than  he  is, 
the  world  would  have  heard  far  less  about  him.  It 
would  never  have  heard  of  the  subtile  and  compre- 
hensive brutality  by  which  a  nation's  liberty  has 
been  betrayed,  and  the  sportive  fiendishness  that  has 
contrived  to  make  the  people  themselves  parties  to 
his  conspiracy.  Had  he  been  a  greater  man,  he  would 
have  respected  his  oath,  or,  if  forced  by  the  desperate 
condition  of  his  country  to  save  it  from  misrule  by 
momentary  usurpation,  he  would  have  used  his 
power  for  the  broad  good  of  his  land,  and  not  to  in- 
crease, by  stupendous  rascality,  the  pomp  of  his  own 
state  and  name.  I  heard  an  eccentric  but  shrewd 
man  once  remark  that  he  never  knew  a  person  who 
startled  people  very  much,  and  for  whom  crowds 


WASHINGTON,   OR   GREATNESS.  63 

seemed  willing  to  throw  up  their  hats,  that  was  not, 
to  a  great  extent,  a  humbug.  There  is  much  truth 
in  this,  for  it  is  often  the  case  that  if  persons  who 
show  brilliant  and  surprising  qualities  in  the  world 
of  action,  speech,  or  thought,  had  more  solidity  or 
good  sense,  their  startling  distinction  would  be  less 
prominent,  because  their  wisdom  and  general  vigor 
of  nature  would  be  greater. 

God  strives  in  every  way  to  make  us  see  the  great- 
ness of  all  that  is  productive  of  peace  and  order. 
The  prairies  waving  with  growing  wheat,  and  forests 
studded  with  swelling  oaks,  make  no  noise ;  and 
the  electricity  which  roars  in  the  thunder  peal  is 
not  a  tithe  so  powerful  as  that  which  sleeps  in  the 
light  and  holds  the  drops  of  a  cup  of  water  in  their 
liquid  poise.  The  world's  estimate  of  power  gives 
greater  prominence  to  that  which  upheaves  and 
causes  disorder.  The  eruption  of  a  volcano,  to 
almost  all  minds,  symbolizes  more  strength  and 
grandeur  than  the  silent  swing  and  radiance  of  a 
planet.  If  there  could  be  some  splendid  confusion 
produced  amid  the  serenity  of  the  present  universal 
order,  if  some  broad  constellation  should  begin, 
to-night,  to  play  off  from  all  its  lamps,  volleys  of 
Bengal  lights,  that  should  fall  in  showers  of  many- 
colored  sparks  and  fiery  serpents,  down  the  spaces 
of  the  heavens,  or  if  some  blazing  and  piratical 
comet  should  butt  and  jostle  the  whole  outworks  of 
a  system,  and  rush  like  a  celestial  fire-ship,  destroy- 
ing order,  and  kindling  the  calm  fleets  that  sail 
upon  the  infinite  azure  into  a  flame,  how  many 


64  WASHINGTON,   OB  GREATNESS. 

thousands  there  are  that  would  look  up  to  the  skies, 
for  the  first  time  with  wonder  and  awe,  and  exclaim 
inwardly,  "  Surely  there  is  the  finger  of  God." 
They  do  not  see  anything  surprising  or  subduing  in 
the  punctual  rise  and  steady  setting  of  the  sun,  and 
its  imperial  and  boundless  bounty  ;  and  yet  there  is 
enough  fire  in  the  sun  to  spirt  any  quantity  of  flam- 
ing and  fantastic  jets  ;  it  could  fill  the  whole  space 
between  Mercury  and  Neptune  with  brilliant  pyro- 
technics and  jubilee  displays,  such  as  children  gaze 
at  and  clap  their  hands.  But  the  great  old  sun  is 
not  selfish,  and  has  no  French  ambition  for  such 
tawdry  glories.  It  reserves  its  fires,  keeps  them 
stored  in  its  breast,  spills  over  no  sheets  of  flame 
from  its  huge  caldron,  but  shoots  still  and  steadily 
its  clean,  white  beams  into  the  ether,  that  evoke 
flowers  from  the  bosom  of  every  globe,  and  paint 
the  far-off  satellites  of  Uranus  with  silver  beauty. 

It  is  a  bad  sign  always  for  the  permanence  and 
beneficence  of  any  power,  when  there  is  much 
clamor  in  it  and  excitement  about  it.  Where  a 
school  is  governed  by  the  frequent  accompaniment 
of  loud  talk  and  whippings,  there  is  not  nearly  so 
much  power  at  work  as  in  a  school  where,  through 
respect  for  the  teacher,  everything  goes  on  quietly, 
as  it  were  without  direction.  So  it  is  in  homes ; 
the  more  noise  and  scolding,  the  less  parental 
power.  Activity  and  clamor  of  the  tongue  and 
hand  are  brought  in  to  supply  the  lack  of  that 
steady,  central  strength  which  organizes  peacefully. 
In  the  same  way  it  is  the  excess  of  the  violent  and 


V 


WASHINGTON,   OR  GEEATNESS.  65 

x 

degrading  passions  —  which  in  their  dominion  re- 
ally show  the  weakness  of  a  man,  and  not  his  great- 
ness — that  usually  has  made  the  fame  and  suprem- 
acy of  the  leading  geniuses.  If  a  man  is  not  too 
great  to  be  unscrupulous,  he  can,  with  a  fair  share 
of  force  in  him,  make  headway  and  considerable 
noise  in  the  world.  There  is  more  power  in  put- 
ting the  foot  upon  a  passion,  and  being  unknown 
through  that  victory,  than  in  surrendering  to  it,  and 
thus  making  a  world-wide  noise.  We  may  conquer 
the  globe  in  the  latter  case,  but  in  the  former  we 
conquer  the  prince  of  this  world.  The  passion  for 
money-getting,  for  reputation,  for  power,  for  a  seat 
in  Congress,  often  acquires  for  a  man  the  credit  of 
greatness,  through  his  success,  when  he  may  have 
neighbors  that  show  themselves  to  be  greater  than 
he,  by  refusing  to  let  a  passion  absorb  them,  and  are 
restrained  by  the  delicate  bonds  of  refinement, 
honor,  and  conscience,  from  the  tricks,  mean- 
nesses, and  questionable  measures  that  must  often 
be  used  to  be  brilliantly  successful  in  the  world  of 
wealth  and  fame. 

All  true  greatness  is  calm,  has  a  large  side  of 
silence,  works  in  harmony  with  the  still  and  modest 
laws  of  truth,  and  shows  symmetrical  proportions 
that  prevent  its  majesty  from  producing  its  full  im- 
pression upon  us  until  we  study  it  carefully.  I  was 
talking  with  a  man,  not  long  since,  who  said  that  he 
could  not  see  the  remarkable  greatness  of  Washing- 
ton. "  What  new  thing  did  he  do  ?  "  he  asked ;  as  if 
it  were  not  a  marvellous  instance  of  greatness  that, 


66  WASHINGTON,   OR  GREATNESS. 

with  such  opportunities  to  do  such  new  and  brilliant 
things  as  to  be  the  founder  of  a  line  of  kings  on  a 
vast  continent,  he  would  not  think  of  it ;  as  if  he 
did  not  show  the  very  originality  of  his  greatness 
among  the  chieftains  of  history  by  lifting  up  the 
common  virtues  of  honesty,  integrity,  and  regard 
for  the  welfare  of  others,  and  wearing  them  instead 
of  a  royal  robe  and  princely  crown,  thus  showing 
that  they  were  broad  and  ample  enough  to  cover 
him  with  majesty  ;  as  if  that  letter  by  which,  from 
the  impulse  of  honor  and  devotion  to  republican 
truth,  he  refused  the  imperial  office  and  name,  and 
rebuked  the  officer  who  wrote  the  temptation  to 
him,  was  not  the  most  original  page  in  the  bloody 
annals  of  revolution  and  war;  as  if  it  were  an  every- 
day occurrence  for  a  man,  by  the  justness  of  his  mo- 
tives and  the  clearness  of  his  sight,  to  insure  liberty 
for  generations  to  half  a  hemisphere  ;  as  though  it 
were  something  lightly  to  be  estimated  when  the 
devil  takes  a  great  nature,  such  as  he  has  so  often 
conquered  by  his  splendid  baubles,  up  to  a  high 
mountain,  from  which  the  extent  of  a  nation  is  visi- 
ble, and  offers  the  landscape  as  the  prize,  if  he  will 
kneel  and  worship,  —  to  hear  the  answer  given  that 
echoes  round  the  world, "  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan, 
for  I  will  serve  only  truth  and  my  fellows,  and  the 
Supreme  God." 

Mr.  Carlyle  has  been  led  away  by  the  same  false- 
ness or  feebleness  of  sight  to  disparage  the  great- 
ness of  Washington.  Because  he  gained  no  brill- 
iant victories,  because  he  made  no  startling  and 


WASHINGTON,   OR  GREATNESS.  67 

melodramatic  displays  of  arbitrary  will,  because 
there  were  no  meteoric  moments  and  passages  in  his 
career,  he  and  many  others,  doubtless,  have  thought 
him  unworthy  a  place  among  the  great  heroes  of 
the  time.  "  Good  enough,"  they  say ;  "  a  very  good 
man,  —  but  over-estimated  for  greatness."  Ah! 
was  it  a  small  thing,  to  be  turned  off  in  that  way 
in  our  rhetoric,  that  there  has  been  a  man  who  lifted 
up  generalship  from  the  low  purposes  and  aims 
which  have  degraded  it,  and  in  the  height  of  power 
showed  the  world  the  dignity  there  is  in  serving, 
rather  than  lawless  seizing  ?  We  need  not  deny,  or 
detract  from,  the  splendid  abilities  shown  by  the  great 
captains  of  history  in  their  campaigns  that  gave  or 
upheld  their  despotic  power.  We  see  the  brilliancy 
of  such  achievements  at  'once.  They  glare.  But 
bring  them  into  comparison  with  the  silent  great- 
ness of  Washington  in  the  first  years  of  the  Revo- 
lution !  Look  at  those  great  leaders  with  their 
mighty  and  well-appointed  armies,  full  of  enthusi- 
asm for  their  chiefs,  and  eager  for  war,  and  then, 
then  think  of  Washington,  in  his  humble  camp, 
so  feebly  and  fitfully  supplied  ;  invested  with  every 
sort  of  difficulty  that  might  dishearten  a  noble  na- 
ture ;  denied  the  opportunity  of  doing  anything  brill- 
iant in  the  way  of  battle ;  compelled  to  counsel, 
argue  with,  and  inspirit  the  Congress  that  appointed 
him  and  that  watched  him;  obliged  to  use  the 
greatest  art,  often,  to  conceal  the  poverty  of  his  re- 
sources from  his  foes  and  from  his  own  men ;  seeing 
his  ranks  thinned  just  when  help  was  needed  most ; 


68  WASHINGTON,    OR  GREATNESS. 

doomed  to  have  his  head  and  heart  pecked  at  by 
jealousy,  detraction,  and  infamous  slander;  com- 
pelled to  keep  up  courage  in  defeat,  and  to  look 
abroad  for  light  in  the  thickest  gloom;  to  cheer  his 
soldiers  amid  the  frost  and  the  famine  of  their  win- 
ter retreats,  and  to  suppress  their  mutinies  and  keep 
alive  their  patriotism,  when  their  pay  failed  and 
their  prospects  were  black ;  and  yet  in  the  midst  of  all, 
to  keep  the  same  calm  temper  of  endurance,  and 
the  same  deep  love  of  freedom  and  serene  faith  in 
success ;  to  feel  "  though  persecuted  not  forsaken, 
though  perplexed  not  in  despair,  though  cast  down 
not  destroyed ; "  and  to  come  out  of  it  all  trium- 
phant, and  with  the  same  majesty  of  joy  in  victory  as 
there  was  of  trust  in  the  night  hours ;  and  then  to 
rule  with  the  same  steady  justice  in  the  cabinet,  as 
he  had  shown  in  the  camp,  is  not  this  a  greatness 
that  is  only  too  original  in  the  annals  of  the  world's 
warfare  and  straggle  ?  Where  is  the  other  great 
genius  that  has  been  called  to  stand  the  strain  of 
such  constant  and  exciting  duties,  —  the  wear  and 
tear  upon  temper,  hope,  confidence,  and  the  last  re- 
sources of  the  breast  for  years,  with  no  absorbing 
personal  ambition  to  inspire  him,  but  only  a  senti- 
ment of  duty,  and  the  ardent  desire  to  give  freedom 
to  a  land  ? 

In  the  silence  and  persistency  of  the  breast  of 
Washington  there  was  the  noblest  display  of  great- 
ness. The  spirit  which  ruled  him  was  the  highest 
spirit ;  and  the  qualities  within  him  to  be  ruled  thus 
must  have  been  massive  and  immense,  or  they  never 


WASHINGTON,   OR  GREATNESS.  69 

could  have  done  the  organizing  work  which  they 
performed.  Try  to  think  of  any  other  man,  con- 
nected with  the  armies  or  the  councils  of  our  revo- 
lution, taking  Washington's  place,  and  he  perform- 
ing a  subordinate  part.  We  cannot  do  it.  The 
history  of  that  period,  and  the  fitness  of  things, 
would  be  tortured  by  such  an  arrangement.  We 
might  as  well  try  to  conceive  the  sun  acting  as 
satellite  to  one  of  its  dependent  orbs.  Great  men, 
noble  men,  brilliant  men,  there  were  belonging  to 
the  camp  and  to  the  Capitol,  but  they  show  aright, 
and  to  the  best  advantage,  when  disposed  around 
his  Doric  greatness.  He  was  the  man  fitted  and 
made  to  uphold  the  banner  of  liberty  on  a  conti- 
nent, —  the  colossal  nature  representing  in  his  own 
inward  rule  and  repose  the  greatness  of  a  nation 
rising  up  to  proclaim  and  illustrate  liberty  founded 
on  law.  He  towered  from  the  level  of  the  virtue 
and  patriotism  of  his  countrymen,  not  by  any  dif- 
ferent or  more  surprising  qualities  than  theirs  but 
as  the  mountain  rises  by  greater  mass  and  gradual 
slopes  from  the  plains ;  and  he  stood  among  the 
cluster  of  large  names  that  surrounded  him  and 
supported  the  common  cause,  as  the  summit  which 
bears  his  name  in  the  highlands  of  New  Hampshire, 
rises  from  the  cluster  of  neighboring  peaks,  so  ma- 
jestic and  supreme  in  its  eminence  that  at  the  dis- 
tance all  the  rest  seem  blended  into  its  sublimity, 
and  it  is  its  height  that  represents  the  grandeur  of 
the  region,  and  guides  the  traveller  from  afar  on 
his  way. 


70  WASHINGTON,  OR   GREATNESS. 

Whenever  we  are  grateful  to  divine  Providence  for 
the  freedom  we  enjoy,  and  the  persistent  heroism  that 
secured  it,  we  ought  especially  to  recognize  and  adore 
the  guidance  that  raised  such  a  nature  to  be  its  sup- 
port and  head.  Coming  a  generation  before,  or  a 
generation  after,  there  would  hardly  have  been  on 
this  side  the  globe,  the  proper  work  for  such  a  man, 
and  he  would  have  been  a  discreet,  successful,  and 
happy  farmer  at  Mount  Vernon.  Many  speak  of  the 
indications  of  Providence  in  behalf  of  our  land, 
shown  by  the  seemingly  miraculous  interpositions 
that  kept  him,  in  his  youth,  from  the  service  of  a 
foreign  navy,  and  that  guarded  him,  in  forest  skir- 
mishes and  open  battle,  from  the  skilful  bullets  of 
his  enemies.  But  it  is  wiser  and  more  Christian  to 
study  the  comprehensive  providence  that  organized 
secretly  such  a  soul  in  the  settlement  of  Virginia, 
and,  when  the  time  arrived  that  called  for  a  leader, 
able  to  conciliate  differences,  disarm  prejudice,  in- 
spire confidence  and  courage,  and  give  weight  and 
dignity  to  a  popular  cause,  led  forward  the  man 
full-formed,  competent  to  utter  without  heat  the 
radical  opinions  and  determinations  of  an  excited 
people,  and  to  invest  rebellion  with  the  calmness  of 
philosophy  and  the  majesty  of  truth.  Without 
Washington,  our  revolution,  if  successful,  would 
have  lost  its  chief  grandeur.  No  brilliancy  of  mili- 
tary genius  in  any  other  leader,  could  atone  for  the 
loss  of  that  brave  manliness  at  the  head  of  our 
armies  that  collected  and  pious  patience  in  reverses 
and  'distress,  that  chastened  and  systematic  enthu- 


WASHINGTON,   OR   GREATNESS.  71 

siasm  which  defeated,  by  wearing  out,  the  haughty 
hostility  of  a  foreign  cabinet  and  king,  that  serene 
and  stately  wisdom  from  which  has  floated  down  to 
us  the  parental  counsels  of  that  Farewell  Address, — 
fitting  close  to  a  life  of  unfaltering  devotion  to  duty 
and  a  country's  cause.  The  man  to  whom  a  whole 
country  looked  for  support,  and  on  whose  inward 
resources  they  relied  in  war  and  peace,  has  not  been 
overrated  for  greatness,  nay,  has  not  been  wisely 
enough  estimated  as  yet.  Let  us  bless  God  for 
Washington !  And  if  any  man  cannot  see  our  in- 
debtedness for  his  service  by  looking  at  the  past,  let 
him  turn  towards  Europe,  and  study  what  each  op- 
pressed and  bleeding  land  is  suffering,  because,  in 
the  spasmodic  throes  of  its  strength  or  despair  it 
has  no  such  man  as  he  to  comprehend  the  justice  of 
its  cause  in  his  brain,  and  the  sentiments  of  it  in  his 
breast,  and  to  excite  in  every  thinker,  in  every  lover 
of  God  and  religion,  and  in  the  cottages  of  every 
village,  a  trust  in  the  clearness  of  his  sight,  the 
purity  of  his  heart,  the  soundness  of  his  judgment, 
and  the  republicanism  of  his  sword.  When  there 
shall  be  fewer  metaphysical  declaimers  and  atheistic 
brigands  in  the  ranks  of  the  leaders  of  the  popular 
cause  in  Europe,  and  a  few  men,  yes,  even  one  large 
and  well-poised  nature,  to  whom  manliness  and 
piety  may  look  up  without  fear  and  without  shame, 
the  prospects  of  liberty  will  not  be  so  dark  as  they 
are  now. 

I  wish  to  speak  nest  of  the  morality  of  Washing- 
ton's intellect.  Without  the  due  appreciation  of  tliis, 


72         WASHINGTON,  OR  GEEATNESS. 

any  estimate  of  his  genius  must  be  partial.  As  the 
great  powers  of  his  nature  were  only  the  ordinary 
qualities  of  good  men  enlarged  and  intensified,  so 
the  greatness  of  his  mind  consisted  in  his  tendency 
and  desire  to  see  the  single  truth  and  justice  in 
every  question  that  came  before  him  for  considera- 
tion and  for  action.  Somebody  has  finely  said  that, 
if  you  seek  the  new,  you  will  be  likely  to  miss  the 
true,  but  if  you  seek  the  true  you  will  probably  find 
the  new.  Simple  standards  are  very  severe  ones  for 
the  judgments  of  men.  How  few  are  there  that,  in 
all  their  inquiries,  seek  only  truth  with  their  whole 
heart,  and  in  all  their  actions  desire  to  do  purely 
what  is  best.  Let  the  bigotries  and  prejudices,  the 
oppressions,  the  infidelity,  the  unfaithfulness  of  men 
'answer  for  this  ;  for  they  exist  simply  because  men 
do  not  pursue  truth  with  singleness  of  mind,  and 
strive  to  support  in  action  what  they  know  in  medita- 
tion to  be  the  right.  But  there  never  was  a  nature 
sounder  to  the  core  of  its  interest  and  its  will,  in 
these  respects,  than  Washington's.  Sincerity  and 
truth-lovingness  were  in  his  blood.  Morality  shot 
up  into  every  fibre  of  his  brain,  and  was  alive  in 
each  sinew  of  his  hand.  We  cannot  conceive  of  him 
making  any  investigations  to  dress  out  a  subject  in 
any  other  light  than  its  own,  or  planning  to  serve  a 
party,  or  laboring  in  any  course  that  did  not  seem  to 
promise  the  best  results  for  all.  Reference  to  what 
is  highest  in  the  nature  of  things  had  been  made  a 
habit  so  strong  by  his  faithfulness,  that  it  became  an 
instinct.  A  patriot  he  was  in  the  highest  sense,  not 


WASHINGTON,   OR   GREATNESS.  73 

because  he  loved  his  country  with  a  selfish  love,  but 
because  he  loved  justice  on  the  broadest  scale,  and 
believed  that  the  cause  of  his  country  was  that  of 
eternal  justice  ;  and  so  when  he  spoke  of  resistance, 
it  was  a  command  from  the  very  spirit  of  loyalty, 
saying  "  submit  no  longer,"  and  when  he  drew  his 
sword,  every  Christian  in  the  land  might  safely  say 
"  Amen"  So  lofty  was  his  nature,  that  he  could 
not  stoop  to  selfish  ambition,  nor  counsel  anything 
that  would  tamper  with  the  public  good,  or  did  not 
point  directly  to  his  country's  benefit.  If  such  a 
spirit  is  the  soul  of  greatness  in  whatever  sphere,  we 
may  see  also  the  breadth  of  the  nature  in  which  that 
spirit  lived,  when  we  consider  how  naturally  we 
think  of  Washington  as  a  public  man.  There  are 
many  very  good  men,  reliable  men,  —  men  as  pure 
in  the  spirit  of  their  greatness  as  Washington,  whom 
we  should  instinctively  consider  out  of  place  in  any 
large  public  capacity.  And  many  who  are  called  to 
the  national  councils  seem  too  small  for  the  work 
allotted  to  them,  not  less  by  the  feebleness  of  their 
powers  than  by  the  selfishness  of  their  spirit.  The 
ample  expanse  and  dignified  associations  of  the 
Senate  Chamber  dwarf  them ;  the  Capitol  does  not 
seem  to  enclose  its  masters  when  they  are  in  it ;  an 
empire  is  too  broad  a  background  for  their  height 
and  bulk.  "Pigmies  are  pigmies  still,  though 
perched  on  Alps."  But  Washington  was  emphati- 
cally a  States-m&n.  The  home  and  the  farm  could 
not  keep  him,  although  his  heart  was  there.  He 
was  made  for  the  broad  sphere  of  public  action. 


74  WASHINGTON,   OR  GEEATNESS. 

The  swing  of  his  arm  ha,d  momentum  enough  to 
move  a  nation  ;  his  presence  was  for  the  head-quar- 
ters of  an  army,  or  for  the  palace  of  a  people  ;  his 
pen  was  made  to  transcribe  treaties,  and  his  voice  to 
be  heard  at  the  limits  of  a  State.  His  writings  have 
the  solemnity  and  majesty  appropriate  to  the  delibera- 
tions and  decisions  of  a  congress,  and  nothing  but  a 
nation,  and  a  serious  revolution  for  the  maintenance 
of  right,  could  be  competent  to  relieve  the  plain  but 
colossal  proportions  of  his  judgment,  prudence, 
integrity,  and  love  of  freedom. 

And  now,  bring  into  the  presence  of  such  a 
character  —  thus  seated  upon  the  throne  of  justice 
and  a  people's  veneration  —  such  men  as  Caesar  and 
Bonaparte.  We  ought  to  bring  them  there  ;  it  will 
do  us  good  to  see  how  they  look,  and  we  ought  to 
know  how  they  look,  in  the  light  which  that  brow 
and  that  face  shed  upon  them.  Do  they  not  look 
smaller  ?  What  right  have  we  to  judge  any  man, 
however  great,  by  any  other  standard  than  that  of 
the  good  ?  If  a  man  is  a  Colossus  in  genius,  but  is 
a  colossal  criminal,  why  not  always  use  the  noun  to 
describe  him,  rather  than  the  adjective  ?  Is  it  not 
time  to  see  that  the  standard  of  the  just  and  good 
flames  over  statesmen  as  well  as  over  humble  men, 
and  that  if  a  man  who  cheats  and  conspires  against 
his  neighbor's  right  in  a  small  sphere  is  called  a 
knave,  the  man  who  cheats  and  robs  and  fetters  his 
country,  by  whatever  brilliancy  of  achievement  he 
effects  it,  should  be  branded  as  a  royal  villain  ?  Let 
not  the  purity  of  Washington's  character  be  con- 


WASHINGTON,   OR  GREATNESS.  75 

sidered,  as  it  too  often  is,  an  almost  supernatural  ex- 
ception to  what  can  be  expected  of  mortals,  but  let  it 
be  looked  up  to  as  the  pattern  of  what  humanity 
may  attain,  and  let  it  shine  upon  the  reputation  of 
these  men  that  are  accounted  great,  that  the  splendor 
of  their  battles  may  pale  in  the  solemn  brightness  of 
his  integrity,  and  that  the  complexity  of  their  genius, 
which  only  offers  so  many  channels  for  the  selfish- 
ness of  our  nature,  may  dwindle  in  its  charm  before 
the  great  simplicity  of  his  soul,  that  was  translucent 
with  the  immortal  brightness  of  virtue  and  fidelity. 

It  is  well  for  us  to  look  up  to  the  height  and  mass 
and  complexion  of  such  a  virtue.  The  anniversary 
of  his  birthday  does  not  come  round  too  often  for 
us  to  devote  some  hour  of  it,  whenever  it  returns,  to 
meditation  upon  him  and  to  gratitude  for  his  spirit 
and  his  work.  The  Almighty  has  put  him  into  his- 
tory, as  he  put  the  soul  of  Samuel  into  the  history 
of  Palestine,  to  show  men  the  majesty  of  virtue,  its 
public  relations,  and  to  speak  to  the  human  sensibil- 
ities and  conscience  through  the  incarnate  eloquence 
of  a  life. 

The  character  of  Washington  is  a  buttress  to  every 
pulpit  of  America ;  for  it  is  a  character  that  is  base- 
less, if  religion  be  not  true.  If  men  are  mere 
animals,  if  there  is  no  law  of  God,  no  holy  duty,  no 
eternal  life,  his  life  is  a  -sublime  inconsistency. 
There  is  a  firmer  fulcrum  for  the  lever  of  the  gospel 
against  the  passions  and  the  worldliness  of  men, 
there  is  greater  vigor  in  the  eloquence  that  denounces 
self-worship  and  enthrones  loyalty  to  truth,  there  is 


76  WASHINGTON,   OB  GREATNESS. 

more  intensity  in  every  appeal  that  calls  men  not 
to  be  "lovers  of  pleasure  more  than  lovers  of  God," 
because  such  a  man  has  woven  the  tissue  of  his  fideli- 
ty into  the  half  century  of  his  earthly  stewardship. 
Such  a  life  makes  the  greatness  which  the  precepts 
of  Christianity  present  abstractly,  a  reality ;  it 
strengthens  the  laws,  and  adorns  the  landscape  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

The  Saviour  said  that  his  apostles  after  their  death 
should  "  sit  upon  twelve  thrones,  judging  the  twelve 
tribes  of  Israel."  And  every  great  character  which, 
out  of  the  materials  of  human  discipline,  builds  up 
a  shining  greatness,  rises  after  its  death  to  a  throne, 
and  by  its  eminence  judges  the  world.  And  so  our 
subject  mounts  to  a  climax  of  moral  authority,  im- 
pressiveness,  and  appeal.  The  character  of  Wash- 
ington hangs  in  the  moral  atmosphere,  for  instruc- 
tion and  for  judgment,  over  the  statesmen  of  our 
land.  How  can  there  be  a  timeserver,  a  demagogue, 
a  trifler  with  right  and  the  true  interests  of  his 
country,  a  brutal  scorner  of  the  laws  of  virtue  and 
honor,  in  that  Capitol  founded  by  Washington,  and 
in  which  his  marble  counterfeit  still  strives  to  shed 
dignity  and  truth  ?  The  people  of  this  land  have 
before  them  the  incarnate  ideal  of  what  a  statesman 
should  be,  and  they  ought  to  hold  the  statesmen  who 
have  read  his  life,  and  who  meet  in  the  city  that, 
bears  his  name,  to  the  duty  of  laboring  in  a  spirit 
like  his  for  the  business  and  the  interests  of  the  great 
estates  they  guard.  It  is  our  fault  if  his  name  shall 
die  away  into  a  mere  ornament  of  congressional  and 


WASHINGTON,   OR   GREATNESS.  77 

caucus  rhetoric,  and  if  it  is  suffered  that  business 
shall  be  postponed,  and  the  courtesies  of  life  trampled 
upon,  and  the  supreme  law  of  God  made  a  byword 
and  -mockery,  by  puny  men  who  sit  in  the  high 
places  of  an  empire  which  his  fidelity  and  religion 
saved.  If  any  man  smiles  at  the  idea  of  great  virtue 
being  possible  amid  the  temptations  of  public  life, 
and  thinks  that  the  standard  of  the  pulpit  is  not  for 
the  conflicts  and  rivalries  and  diplomacies  of  the 
political  arena,  and  fee.ls  that  the  religion  of  Christ 
is  good  enough  outside  the  storms  and  stress  of  the 
world,  let  him  be  pointed  to  Washington,  who  "went 
clean  and  victorious  through  all,  and  who,  "  though 
dead,  yet  speaks"  to  us,  that  the  trouble  in  gaining 
a  great  virtue  is  not  in  the  strength  of  the  world, 
but  in  the  feebleness  of  the  soul. 

And  that  character  shines  down  upon  all  of  us, 
and  searches  the  depths  of  our  hearts  to  prove  our 
fidelity  to  truth  and  heaven.  The  greatest  good- 
ness is  imitable  and  encourages  aspiration.  What  is 
there  in  the  greatness  of  Washington  that  cannot  in 
spirit  be  revealed  in  us,  and  that  is  not  applicable  to 
our  circumstances  and  needed  in  our  breast  ?  If 
Washington  had  failed  in  fidelity  to  his  call ;  if  he 
had  said  "  My  circumstances  are  easy  enough  here 
amid. my  parks,  and  forests,  and  farms,  and  I  will 
not  hazard  my  happiness  upon  the  issue  of  a  conflict 
between  my  feeble  country  and  the  most  powerful 
empire  of  the  world ;  "  or  if,  having  taken  the  re- 
sponsibility, he  had  used  its  means  and  power  for 
himself  more  than  for  the  great  duties  to  which  it 


78  WASHINGTON,   OR   GREATNESS. 

called,  we  should  mourn  when  we  read  it,  and  view 
it  as  another  dark  page  in  the  history  of  the  frailty 
of  human  genius.  And  yet,  in  the  sight  of  God, 
what  would  it  be  but  a  record  in  larger  type  of  the 
practical  infidelity  and  failure  which  so  many  men 
are  printing  in  smaller  type  upon  their  allowance  of 
time  ?  Every  private  soldier  is  required  to  be  faith- 
ful, as  much  as  every  officer  who  has  charge  of  the 
campaign.  Every  man  is  required  to  rule  his  passions 
and  to  discipline  his  powers  .as  the  great  founder  of 
our  freedom  did ;  and  although  every  man  is  not 
required  to  save  a  country,  yet  there  is  no  one  that 
does  not  have  a  soul  to  save  from  darkness,  deprav- 
ity, the  feebleness  of  sloth  and  luxury,  and  the 
powers  of  hell.  Some  men  say  that  the  divine 
character  of  Christ  is  too  high  for  them,  but  what 
man  has  done  surely  men  may  do  ;  and  the  affec- 
tionate reverence  which  we  feel  and  pay  towards  the 
Father  of  his  country,  and  the  gratitude  we  confess 
to  Providence  for  placing  his  name  foremost  and 
lustrous  on  the  roll  of  our  country's  annals,  call  on 
us,  in  the  name  of  consistency  and  our  own  moral 
aspirations,  to  examine  ourselves  and  see  if  there  is 
in  us,  as  there  was  in  him,  a  love  of  the  truth  that 
makes  all  falsehood  infamous  ;  a  devotion  to  the  right 
that  keeps  the  ear  away  from  the  seductions  of  the 
flesh  and  the  world ;  and  that  upward  look  to  what 
is  best,  which  fosters  in  us  the  desire  at  all  times  to 
be  the  servants  of  that  and  that  only  which  is  su- 
preme and  everlasting. 


III. 

BEAUTY  AND  RELIGION. 


WE  propose  in  the  present  article  to  point  out 
a  few  elements  of  the  relation  that  exists  between 
the  perception  of  beauty  and  religious  culture.  Of 
course,  it  will  not  be  necessary  for  us  to  prove  that 
a  desire  for  beauty,  and  a  delight  in  its  manifesta- 
tions, are  natural  and  legitimate  passions  of  our 
nature.  This  point  may  be  assumed.  Taking  this 
for  granted,  it  is  evident,  on  independent  grounds, 
that  some  relation  must  exist  between  the  growth 
of  this  faculty  and  the  development  of  our  relig- 
ious feelings.  Thero  is  an  integrity  in  our  intellect- 
ual conformation  that  will  not  allow  a  dispropor- 
tionate degree  of  cultivation  to  any  of  our  powers  ; 
a  secret  selfishness  at  the  centre  of  our  being  which 
always  appropriates  something  for  general  use,  levy- 
ing contributions  upon  the  treasures  of  every  fac- 
ulty, and  commanding  the  service  of  all  the  powers 
of  the  soul.  We  cannot  select  a  single  organ  of 
the  mind,  any  more  than  we  can  select  a  single 
organ  of  the  body,  and,  by  any  healthy  process  of 
nourishment  and  training,  increase  its  vigor  and 
develop  its  strength  without  also  incidentally  assist- 

79 


80  BEAUTY   AND   RELIGION. 

ing  every  other  power  with  which  it  is  associated.  A 
central  bond,  a  mysterious  attraction,  independent 
of  human  will,  binds  together  all  our  mental  as 
our  physical  powers,  and  by  fine  and  secret  ties 
compels  the  growth  of  each  to  subserve  the  good 
of  all. 

But  especially  is  it  true  that  this  capacity  of  ap- 
preciating beauty  is  connected  with  religion.  This, 
which  is  the  central  want  and  passion  of  the  soul, 
is  developed  and  strengthened  by  every  degree  of 
attainment  in  every  line  of  mental  culture.  As  the 
laws  of  the  natural  world  may  be  carried  up  at  last 
to  a  single  law,  of  which  they  are  the  separate  ex- 
pressions, and  in  which  they  meet  and  blend,  so,  by 
a  beautiful  analogy,  the  forces  of  our  spiritual  na- 
ture would  seem  to  be  but  instruments  and  servants 
of  religious  growth.  Towards  this  great  reservoir, 
our  separate  faculties,  like  confluent  streams,  are 
ever  bearing  the  treasures  collected  in  their  onward 
flow.  The  last  results  of  science  are  religious. 
The  physical  inquirer  tortures  nature  with  his  ap- 
paratus, and  by  mathematical  subtlety  or  logical 
precision  extorts  the  physical  law  inwoven  in  ma- 
terial facts.  The  aim  of  all  his  studies  and  experi- 
ments is  to  discover  the  relations  between  outward 
objects,  the  rational  ties  hidden  from  the  senses, 
and  revealed  only  to  patient  observation  and  labo- 
rious thought.  Facts  are  nothing  to  him,  except  as 
he  may  dippose  and  classify  them ;  they  are  value- 
less, if  he  be  not  capable  of  reducing  them  to  order, 
and  of  discovering  the  plan  which  they  imply.  He 


BEAUTY  AND   RELIGION.         *  81 

would  translate  the  hieroglyphics  of  the  outward 
world  into  the  clear  and  simple  language  of  the 
intellect.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  the  labors 
of  the  scientific  student  do  not  end  with  the  success 
and  progress  of  his  own  branch  of  study.  Inci- 
dentally, but  really,  religion  is  aided  also.  The 
better  portion  of  his  discoveries  is  transferred  di- 
rectly to  her  immediate  sphere.  Our  acquaintance 
with  the  Deity  is  extended  and  enlarged  by  every 
triumph  of  law  over  confusion ;  purer  conceptions 
of  his  wisdom  are  awakened  in  us,  as  evidences  of 
design  and  skill  are  detected  and  unravelled  in  the 
minutest  facts  of  being.  There  is  hardly  a  tenet 
of  the  Christian  Scriptures  that  has  not  been  un- 
folded or  confirmed  by  the  researches  of  science. 
Copernicus,  and  Kepler,  and  Newton,  and  La  Place, 
by  enlarging  our  views  of  the  grandeur  of  the  uni- 
verse, have  furnished  us  with  something  like  a  scale 
for  measuring  the  grandeur  of  the  Deity.  Modern 
Astronomy  has  set  at  rest  the  question  as  to  the 
Unity  of  the  First  Cause,  and  has  added  an  awful 
significance  to  the  sentence  of  the  Saviour,  '  God  is 
a  spirit.'  Modern  Chemistry  has  proved  the  omni- 
presence of  the  Eternal  Mind  ;  and  all  the  sciences 
united,  with  an  admirable  harmony  and  common 
friendship  for  religion,  by  the  innumerable  instan- 
ces which  they  unfold  of  benevolent  adaption  and 
arrangement  in  the  forces  of  the  world,  point  to  the 
testimony  of  nature  for  His  goodness  and  His  love. 
Philosophy,  too,  like  science,  has  aided  us  in 
forming  our  conceptions  of  the  nature  and  charac- 

6 


82  "         BEAUTY  AND   RELIGION. 

ter  of  God.  As  the  movements  of  human  history 
have  been  examined  by  a  critical  eye,  it  has  been 
found  that  there,  also,  are  law  and  foresight  and 
benevolent  design.  The  same  grand  despotism  that 
holds  in  check  the  .forces  of  physical  nature,  gov- 
erns at  the  centre  of  the  spiritual  universe.  We 
cannot  find  a  more  splendid  argument  for  the  provi- 
dence of  God,  than  that  revealed  in  the  establish- 
ment of  the  laws  of  the  moral  world.  The  meta- 
physician and  moralist,  too,  have  discovered  in  our 
inner  nature,  in  the  delicate  'mechanism  of  con- 
science and  our  affections,  proofs  of  a  relationship 
with  God  that  trembles  on  the  very  verge  of  the 
divine  paternity. 

Beauty  is  no  exception  to  this  general  law  of 
mental  cultivation.  Progress  in  aesthetics  leads  to 
the  same  result.  Religion  is  still  the  summit  to 
which  we  rise  by  the  severer  road  of  truth,  or 
through  the  more  pleasant  and  flowery  paths  of 
taste.  But  the  progress  of  assthetic  culture  seems 
to  be -more  intimately  associated  with  the  health 
and  purity  of  our  spiritual  nature.  Not  only,  as  in 
the  case  of  science  and  philosophy,  does  our  ac- 
quaintance with  the  laws  of  beauty,  and  a  familiar- 
ity with  its  forms,  react  upon,  and  refine,  and  ex- 
tend the  sphere  of  religious  ideas,  but  the  very  per- 
ception of  beauty  is  assisted  and  quickened  by  the 
purity  of  religious  feelings.  This  will  be  apparent 
if  we  will  consider,  for  a  moment,  in  what  the  es- 
sence of  the  beautiful  consists. 

Modern  inquiry  has  greatly  simplified  this  ques- 


BEAUTY  AND   RELIGION.  83 

tion.  The  theory  of  a  separate  sense,  to  which  the 
impressions  from  external  objects  are  addressed, 
and  which  decides  upon  the  degree  of  beauty  re- 
vealed in  their  construction,  is  now  very  generally 
abandoned.  The  diversity  of  judgments,  even 
among  refined  critics,  as  to  the  existence  of  beauty 
in  the  same  class  of  objects,  is  fatal  to  it.  If  there 
were  an  organ  in  the  structure  of  our  sensitive 
nature,  referring  simply  to  objective  elements  of 
beauty  and  specially  adapted  to  that  quality  in 
things,  as  the  eye  refers  to  light,  and  is  adapted  to 
the  laws  of  light,  a  greater  uniformity  of  tastes 
would  inevitably  result.  At  any  rate,  similar  culti- 
vation would  tend  to  reconcile  the  primitive  differ- 
ences in  the  judgments  of  different  minds.  How- 
ever the  intensity  or  strength  of  the  organ  might 
vary  with  age,  or  circumstances,  or  careful  training, 
still,  like  the  optic  nerve,  its  delicate  fibres  would 
respond  immediately  to  the  presence  of  its  exciting 
cause.  Yet  we  often  see  that  an  object  beautiful 
to  one  person  is  absolutely  painful,  or  disgusting, 
to  another  of  equal  cultivation.  Our  estimate  of 
beauty  varies,  too,  with  our  states  of  mind,  our  bod- 
ily health,  or  the  circumstances  of  our  present  posi- 
tion. Indeed,  with  respect  to  objects  which  elicit 
from  different  temperaments,  even,  a  common  judg- 
ment as  to  the  presence  of  beauty,  we  may  find  the 
widest  disagreement  as  to  the  quality  that  makes 
them  beautiful,  the  evidence  on  which  the  separate 
decisions  rest. 

For  the  same  reason,  it  is  found  that  the  theory 


84  BEAUTY  AND  RELIGION. 

that  refers  the  essence  of  beauty  to  certain  mathe- 
matical lines,  or  peculiar  conformations  of  matter 
and  adjustment  of  parts,  to  delicacy  of  construction 
or  softness  of  coloring,  cannot  be  sustained.  It  is 
not  warranted  by  sound  induction.  The  theory  is 
not  broad  enough,  and  does  not  cover  all  the  facts 
in  the  case.  It  may  gratify  our  love  of  system,  but 
it  sadly  perplexes  a  healthy  logic.  In  the  distribu- 
tion of  beauty,  nature  exhibits  inexhaustible  re- 
sources and  grand  impartiality.  If  we  define  beau- 
ty, and  limit  it  to  one  line  or  form,  she  denies  the 
definition  by  presenting  an  opposite  form  which  re- 
veals the  same  magical  essence.  A  flower  is  beau- 
tiful, but  so  is  a  crystal ;  a  bird,  and  also  a  shaft  of 
granite ;  a  painting,  and  besides  a  proposition  in 
metaphysics.  The  standard  of  beauty  can  be  noth- 
ing less  than  { the  entire  circuit  of  natural  forms, — f 
t\\Q  totality  of  nature.'  Any  attempt  to  bind  its  es- 
sence by  sensual  or  mathematical  bonds  is  worse 
than  useless.  The  essence  is  universal ;  all  defini- 
tions must  be  particular,  dogmatic,  and  exclusive. 
Our  theory  of  beauty  must  be  more  flowing  and 
flexible,  offering  no  harsh  obstructions  to  the  varied 
movements  of  the  goddess,  but  bending  to  all  the 
caprices  of  her  will,  and  revealing  every  posture  of 
her  graceful  form. 

Such  a  theory  we  have  in  the  Catholic  doctrine, 
now  generally  received  among  men  of  taste,  that 
beauty  always  is  ideal,  the  expression  of  mental 
qualities,  the  reflection  of  spiritual  truths.  The 
contests  of  all  partial  sects  with  regard  to  its  secret 


BEAUTY   AND   RELIGION.  85 

essence,  are  reconciled  by  showing  that  every  sect 
is  right,  and  all  sects  wrong ;  right  in  what  each 
affirms,  wrong  in  what  all  deny.  Things  are  beau- 
tiful which  recall,  suggest,  or  create  a  pleasing  emo- 
tion, in  proportion  as  they  are  linked  with  the 
affections  or  desires  or  hopes  of  the  human  heart. 
That  organic  pleasure  which  the  senses  feel  in  pres- 
ence of  harmonious  construction  and  symmetrical 
arrangement  is  not  the  ultimate  charm  which  inter- 
ests and  attracts  the  soul.  These  are  the  channels 
of  beauty,  often  the  signs  of  its  lurking  presence, 
but  never  the  mystery  itself.  We  cannot  suppose 
that  the  organs  of  the  brute  creation  are  charmed 
before  a  well-porportioned  temple,  or  a  graceful 
form,  or  the  movements  of  a  flying  bird.  The  sen- 
sible impression,  in  its  integrity,  addresses  them 
equally  with  us,  but  they  do  not  possess  the  key  to 
unlock  the  secret  treasure.  This  is  the  prerogative 
of  man.  He  is  connected  with  the  universe  by 
spiritual  ties ;  he  alone  is  related  to  it  by  finer  laws 
than  those  of  gravitation  and  chemistry  and  mag- 
netism. That  which  we  call  beauty,  depends  solely 
on  the  associations  which  cluster  around  objects  in 
our  minds,  thus  dignifying  them  with  intellectual 
grace,  and  raising  them  to  a  relationship  with  human, 
nature.  As  Coleridge  has  well  expressed  it,  — 

"  We  receive  but  what  we  give, 
And  in  our  life  alone  does  nature  live." 

Our  spirits  are  the  urns  that  sprinkle  beauty  on  the 
world.  It  is  a  sweet  riddle  which  our  purer  nature 


86  BEAUTY  AND  RELIGION. 

must  resolve.  Young  stated,  with  admirable  pre- 
cision, the  true  theory  of  beauty  in  those  lines,  — 

"  Objects  are  but  the  occasion;  ours  th'  exploit: 
Ours  is  the  cloth,  the  pencil,  and  the  paint, 
Which  nature's  admirable  picture  draws, 
And  beautifies  creation's  ample  dome. 
But  for  the  magic  organ's  powerful  charm, 
Earth  were  a  rude,  uncolored  chaos  still. 
Like  Milton's  Eve,  when  gazing  on  the  lake, 
Man  makes  the  matchless  image  man  admires." 

It  is  plain,  therefore,  that,  since  the  very  perception 
of  beauty  implies  a  spiritual  nature,  the  exercise 
and  development  of  the  taste  for. beauty  must,  in  a 
great  degree,  react  upon  our  spiritual  condition. 
If  we  owe  the  power  to  that  inherent  dignity  that 
separates  us  from  the  brutes,  the  growth  of  the 
power  must  elevate  us  still  higher  in  the  scale  of 
being.  And  so  we  find  that  beauty  leads  us  gently 
to  a  purer  sphere.  Religion  is  aided  and  quickened 
by  every  habit  and  association  which  strengthens 
our  spiritual  relations  and  raises  us  above  a  sensual 
view  of  the  world  in  which  we  live.  Beauty  spirit- 
ualizes the  very  objects  of  the  senses,  investing 
them  with  a  certain  moral  meaning. 

"  Fancy  is  the  power 
That  first  unsensualizes  the  dark  mind, 
Giving  it  new  delights." 

It  raises  the  material  universe  to  a  higher  power, 
and  makes  the  varied  forms  of  nature  hieroglyphics 
of  thought,  petrified  or  incarnate  truths.  As  science 
has  detected  the  presence  of  life  in  every  atom  of 
the  outer  would,  and  proved  that  inorganic  matter 


BEAUTY  AND   EELIGION.  87 

* 

is  baptized  in  spiritual  laws,  so  the  imagination 
has  discovered  that  nature  is  also  permeated  with 
a  delicate  significance  that  can  be  measured  and 
appreciated  only  by  the  affections  of  our  hearts. 

This  intimate  relation  between  beauty  and  our 
religious  nature  will  assist  us  to  solve  a  difficult 
question  which  has  been  raised  among  modern  crit- 
ics. It  has  been  objected  to  the  theory  of  the  beau- 
tiful stated  above,  that  it  destroys  the  existence  of 
an*y  real  beauty.  By  making  it  depend  solely  on 
some  individual  associations,  we  take  from  it  all 
substantive  character,  and  make  it  always  relative 
to  the  sensitive  nature,  the  capricious  disposition, 
or  unhealthy  state,  perhaps,  of  the  percipient.  Of 
course,  by  the  terms  of  that  theory,  we  cannot  ex- 
pect unity  of  judgment  upon  the  degree  of  beauty 
in  an  object,  as  we  expect  unity  upon  a  proposition 
in  Euclid,  or  a  problem  in  algebra.  But  it  does 
not  follow  that,  on  this  account,  beauty  is  acciden- 
tal and  has  no  law.  On  the  contrary,  we  believe 
that  it  does  obey  an  infallible  law.  Always,  in  its 
present  form,  it  is  religious ;  and  the  varying  esti- 
mates of  different  tastes  are  graduated  according  to 
the  purity  of  the  religious  conceptions  involved. 
In  the  last  analysis,  beauty  is  one  with  truth,  and 
both  are  written  in  cipher,  which  the  religious  sense 
alone  can  interpret  and  resolve.  The  significance 
of  things  is  definite ;  but  it  is  revealed  to  us  ac- 
cording to  a  sliding  scale,  of  which  religious  cul- 
ture measures  the  degrees.  It  is,  indeed,  our  light 
thrown  upon  nature  which  interprets  beauty ;  but 


88  BEAUTY   AND   RELIGION. 

if  that  light  be  religious,  finer  elements  will  become 
apparent,  and  beauty  become  more  clear.  It  is 
sympathy  with  the  outward  universe  that  unlocks 
its  treasures  ;  that  sympathy  is  born  of  religion, 
and  is  strengthened  and  deepened  by  every  acces- 
sion of  spiritual  life.  To  the  mind  of  God,  un- 
doubtedly, every  fact  in  the  material  world  has  a 
fixed  significance,  a  precise  and  definite  value.  The 
universe  is  his  art,  and  struggles  to  express  the 
crystallized  and  imprisoned  thoughts  which  he  has 
written  there.  A  delicate  correspondence  connects 
every  beast  and  bird  and  tree  and  flower  with  some 
type  of  thought,  or  passion,  or  emotion,  present  in 
the  Creator's  mind  at  their  formation,  and  of  which 
they  are  the  organized  exponents.  But  we  rise 
towards,  and  appreciate  so  much  of  this  infinite  art 
as  the  purity  of  our  inner  life  can  gauge.  Likeness 
to  the  divine  nature  only  will  admit  us  to  the  secrets 
of  the  divine  mind.  The  most  stubborn  matter  is 
plastic  and  ductile  and  fluid  to  the  religious  sense. 
All  the  changing  degrees  of  significance,  which  the 
objective  world  assumes,  from  that  feeling  of  health 
and  buoyancy  and  animal  enjoyment  which  the 
lowest  minds  experience  in  a  clear  and  bracing 
morning  air,  to  the  unfathomable  inspiration  of  the 
poet  and  the  artist,  are  determined  by  its  presence 
and  its  purity.  It  is  to  cultivated  religious  minds 
alone,  that  "  the  laws  of  moral  nature  answer  to 
those  of  matter  as  face  to  face  in  a  glass." 

The  truth  of  this  position  cannot  be  shaken  by 
any  seeming  contradiction  of  experience  or  history. 


BEAUTY  AND   RELIGION.  89 

Raffaelle  may  paint  finer  pictures  than  Channing,  by 
assiduous  culture,  could  even  imitate  ;  but  the  finer 
sympathy  with  nature,  the  purer  delight  in  her  com- 
panionship, and  deeper  suggestions  from  her  in- 
exhaustible stores  of  truth,  will  visit  the  soul  of  him 
who  has  drunk  deeper  of  the  elements  of  moral  life. 
There  are  few  of  us  that  cannot  verify  this  by  our 
experience.  The  growth  of  every  spiritual  mind 
attests  the  fact  that  nature  sympathizes  with  relig- 
ious progress.  Not  while  our  souls  remain  steeped 
in  sensuality,  or  fettered  by  dull  and  sordid  cares, 
will  come  the  revelations  that  are  hidden  in  the 
universe.  The  lilies  of  the  field  have  no  meaning 
to  the  cold  eye  of  avarice,  but  to  the  warm  spirit  of 
Jesus,  they  reflect  the  doctrine  of  universal  Provi- 
dence. And  so,  with  us,  it  is  in  moments  of  calmer 
meditation,  in  seasons  of  quiet  prayer,  or  after  a 
noble  deed,  that  the  awakened  energies  of  our  inner 
life  spontaneously  interpret  the  oracles  of  nature. 

"  With  an  eye  made  quiet  by  the  power 
Of  harmony,  and  the  deep  power  of  joy, 
We  see  into  the  life  of  things." 

And  thus,  where  we  least  expected  it,  we  find  that 
law  exists.  Beauty  always  is  relative  to  our  state  of 
mind,  and  depends,  to  us,  upon  our  state  of  mind. 
But  it  has  also  a  definite  and  objective  existence 
that  reveals  itself  according  to  our  piety  and  virtue. 
There  is  a  certain  vagueness  which  accompanies 
the  purest  perceptions  of  beauty  that  is  intimately 
associated  with  religious  feelings,  and  is  eminently 


90  BEAUTY   AND   RELIGION. 

calculated  to  foster  and  sustain  them.  In  our  better 
moments,  the  inspiration  we  derive  from  nature 
comes  in  the  shape  of  suggestions  and  unfathoma- 
ble intimations,  and  hints  that  are  inexpressible  in 
the  poverty  of  speech.  And  thus,  by  communion 
with  the  outward  world,  the  sentiment  of  reverence 
is  continually  quickened  and  refreshed.  While 
standing  before  the  sea,  for  instance,  the  dim 
thoughts  that  rise,  half-formed  and  vague  within  the 
mind,  and  die  before  they  are  born  in  the  clear  light 
of  definite  consciousness,  suggest  to  us  a  grandeur 
which  the  scene  does  not  exhaust,  of  which  it  is 
rather  but  a  faint  and  momentary  type.  Logic 
cannot  estimate  the  significance  of  the  ocean  in  its 
periods  of  sublimer  strength.  The  grandeur  before 
us  carries  us  away  in  meditation  on  a  more  awful 
power ;  insensibly,  from  the  sublime  we  are  led  up 
to  the  infinite  ;  an  unconscious  instinct  leads  us  to 
muse  upon  Him  in  whom  alone  our  ideas  of  gran- 
deur find  repose ;  and  thus  w-e  are  elevated  from 
material  forms  to  the  home  of  eternal  beauty  in  the 
mind  of  God.  There  is  the  same  indefinable, 
untranslatable,  and  perpetually  expanding  meaning 
in  the  stars.  Astrology  has  sprung  from  it,  and  they 
have  been  supposed  to  influence  human  life,  and  to 
unlock  the  secret  of  human  destiny.  They  have  in- 
spired every  poet  that  has  written,  and  yet  their  tale 
is  not  half  told.  For  every  condition  of  spirit  they 
have  a  ready  sympathy,  and  even  in  our  day,  they 
remain  our  truest  teachers.  It  is  because  "  the  blue 
sky  in  which  the  private  earth  is  buried,  —  the  sky 


BEAUTY   AND    RELIGION.  91 

with  its  eternal  calm,  and  full  of  everlasting  orbs,  is 
the  typo  of  reason."  A  man  troubled  with  doubts, 
or  weary  with  thought,  or  faint  at  heart,  has  only  to- 
gaze  upon  the  heavens  in  the  midnight  silence,  and 
a  religious  awe  returns  upon  the  soul,  and  a  strength 
refreshes  every  spiritual  fibre  that  is  akin  to  Chris- 
tian faith.  What  is  it  on  a  moonlight  night  that 
"  inundates  the  air  "  with  beauty,  that  thrills  our 
frame  with  emotions  too  fine  for  utterance,  that 
heaves  our  spirit  with  an  inspiration  before  which  all 
words  are  weak  ?  The  spell  resides  not  in  the  light 
or  air  ;  it  is  the  spirit  of  religion  streaming  through 
material  channels,  and  stirring  with  a  quicker  flow 
the  pulses  of  the  soul.  The  silence  of  the  summer 
woods  is  burdened  with  the  same  mysterious  power. 
A  solemnity  broods  over  them,  as  though  God  had 
preceded  us  in  our  walk,  and  our  presence  had 
intruded  on  the  intense  and  silent  worship  of  the 
trees.  Even  in  human  art,  the  same  vagueness,  the 
same  mystery  connects  beauty  with  the  religious 
sense.  Persons  of  uncultivated  taste  instinctively 
uncover  in  presence  of  a  statue  or  a  finished  paint- 
ing by  a  master.  It  is  the  unconscious  confession  of 
our  nature  that  the  marble  and  the  canvas  are 
organs  and  revelations  ,of  truths  that  belong  to  the 
ideal  world,  before  which  it  is  profane  to  speak  too 
loud,  or  to  stand  with  irreverent  and  idle  curiosity. 
Beauty,  too,  is  linked  with  religion  in  another 
way ;  it  is  medicinal.  The  foe  of  guilt  and  sin,  it 
would  ever  win  us  back  to  purity  and  love.  The 
universe  is  in  league  with  virtue.  No  man  comes 


92  BEAUTY   AND   RELIGION. 

fresh  from  sin  into  the  presence  of  the  joyful  fields, 
or  within  hearing  of  the  birds,  who  feels  not  rebuked 
by  a  gentle  influence  that  arouses  the  life  of  con- 
science,  and  prompts  him  to  repentance  and  return. 
Calmly  we  listen,  and  yield  our  minds  to  the  sooth- 
ing charm,  until 

"we  stand, 

Adore,  and  worship,  when  we  know  it  not; 
Pious  beyond  the  intention  of  our  thought; 
Devout  above  the  meaning  of  our  will." 

Nothing  but  innocence  can  harmonize  with  nature, 
and,  to  the  guilty  heart,  she  sends  the  eloquent  warn- 
ing and  the  balm  of  peace. 

"  Some  souls  love  all  things  but  the  love  of  beauty, 
And  by  that  love  they  are  redeemable ; 
For  in  love  and  beauty  they  acknowledge  good." 

Seeing,  thus,  that  beauty  is  connected  by  so  many 
ties  with  religious  life,  we  are  prepared  to  solve  the 
question  as  to  its  relation  to  Christianity.  We  have 
only  to  study  the  history  of  literature  and  art  to 
discover  that  every  form  or  theory  of  religion  has 
exercised  a  powerful  sway  over  mental  cultivation. 
It  would  seem  that  the  laws  of  national  progress  are 
written  always  in  the  national  faith.  By  the  con- 
ceptions of  God  and  duty  and  providence  and  im- 
mortality, the  depth  of  all  philosophy,  the  spiritu- 
ality of  all  art,  the  soundness  of  all  literature,  can 
alone  be  graduated.  The  beauties,  the  limits,  and 
the  defects  of  the  Greek  religion  were  plainly  written 
in  Grecian  poetry  and  statuary  and  architecture. 
Indian  art  and  literature  sprang,  very  evidently, 


BEAUTY  AND   RELIGION.  93 

from  the  Brahmin  philosophy  and  faith,  the  ideas  of 
which,  however,  they  vainly  struggled  to  reveal.  The 
massiveness  and  sullen  grandeur  of  the  Egyptian 
temples  is  easily  explained  by  studying  the  Egyptian 
views  of  God  and  worship  and  human  destiny. 
Religion  cannot  relieve  itself  from  the  dignity,  nor 
from  the  obligation,  of  being  the  teacher  of  the  race. 
This  pretension  is  found  in  Christianity.  On  every 
•  page  of  the  Christian  revelation  it  is  clearly  written, 
or  implied,  that  our  religion  is  final ;  and  it  furnishes 
'the  true  law  of  individual  growth  and  the  only  code 
of  social  progress  and  perfection.  Its  promise  is,  to 
furnish  for  the  world  a  system  of ~ universal  educa- 
tion. Of  course,  in  this  scheme  of  training,  the 
essential  element  of  beauty  cannot  be  neglected. 
Provision  must  be  made  for  that,  else  the  justice  of 
the  claim  is  at  once  removed,  its  legislation  becomes 
partial,  and  an  intestine  war  springs  up  between 
the  religious  creed  of  Christ  and  the  aesthetic  wants 
of  man. 

Christianity,  we  believe,  has  amply  redeemed  its 
promise.  A  new  age  began  with  Jesus,  of  which 
there  are  other  signs  than  the  calendar,  deeper 
records  than  the  alteration  of  our  dates.  His  holy 
life  changed  something  more  than  the  religious 
creed  of  the  universe.  Follow  back  all  the  streams 
of  modern  cultivation  through  the  gloom  of  ages, 
and,  in  spite  of  seeming  deviations,  and  the  tempo- 
rary divergence  of  their  tortuous  channels,  they  ap- 
proach at  last,  and,  mingling  their  separate  currents 
into  one,  lead  us,  with  a  silent  and  solemn  and 


94  BEAUTY  AND   RELIGION. 

half-conscious  instinct,  to  the  foot  of  the  cross. 
Christ  is  at  the  head  of  modern  philosophy  and 
modern  literature  and  art.  He  refreshed  the  weary 
imagination  as  well  as  the  languid  faith  of  the  world. 
How  plainly  can  we  trace  the  influence  of  the  Chris- 
tian system  in  unfolding  the  elements  of  ideal 
beauty !  The  fine  arts  in  modern  times  may  not 
rival  the  ancient  masterpieces  in  formal  beauty,  but 
their  sphere  has  been  enlarged,  and  their  inspiration 
drawn  from  deeper  sources.  The  passions  and  feel- 
ings at  the  command  of  the  ancient  artist  were  few 
and  simple,  for  the  most  part  belonging  to  the  physi- 
cal relations  of  mankind ;  and  to  the  narrowness  of 
his  circuit,  may,  undoubtedly,  be  ascribed  much  of 
his  success.  To  modern  painting  and  statuary  have 
been  offered  the  nobler  sentiments  of  piety  and 
faith  and  love  ;  affections  that  have  a  deeper  signif- 
icance, and  which,  by  their  very  purity,  and  their 
relations  to  the  Infinite,  are  less  easily  subdued  to 
bonds  of  stone,  or  the  finer  slavery  of  colors.  It 
surely  cannot  be  heresy  to  say  that  the  Madonna 
of  Raffaele  exhibits  a  higher  and  purer  sense  of 
beauty  than  the  face  of  the  Venus ;  or  that  Gothic 
architecture,  with  its  thousand  faults,  sprang  from 
a  lower  deep  in  human  nature  than  the  more  perfect 
symmetry  of  the  Grecian  temples.  We  can  be  just 
to  classic  models,  and  the  ancient  taste,  without 
being  unjust  to  the  merits  or  meaning  of  modern 
art.  And  such  a  judgment  is  only  to  say  that 
Christian  feelings  are  higher  than  the  sources  from 
which  Grecian  taste  borrowed  its  ideas  of  grace ;  it 


BEAUTY  AND   EELIGION.  95 

is  only  to  assert  that  spiritual  beauty  is  purer  than 
regularity  of  features  or  symmetry  of  form  ;  it  is 
only  to  confess  that  heathen  mythology  is  inferior 
to  the  purity  of  our  simple  faith ;  it  is  only  to  de- 
clare that  the  face  of  the  Apollo,  the  clearest  reve- 
lation of  ancient  moral  beauty,  that  perfect  incar- 
nation of  lofty  scorn,  a  self-conscious  elegance  and 
self-satisfied  repose,  is,  after  all,  less  elevating  in  its 
influence  upon  the  artist,  and  less  inspiring  to  our 
better  nature,  than  the  face  of  Jesus,  refined  by  re- 
ligious love,  spiritualized  by  holy  sorrow,  lighted  by 
unshaken  hope,  and  turned  to  heaven  with  a  look, 
not  of  haughty  satisfaction  and  self-dependence,  but 
of  serene  and  chastened  confidence  and  humble 
prayer.  That  face,  as  we  all  picture  it  in  our  im- 
agination when  we  understand  the  real  depths  of 
his  nature  and  his  character,  is  the  modern  ideal  of 
moral  beauty.  Elements  of  spiritual  loveliness, 
beyond  the  conception  of  the  Grecian  masters,  are 
collected  and  centred  there.  It  is  the  rich  endow- 
ment of  Christianity  to  the  stores  of  imagina- 
tion. s  And,  whatever  destiny  may  be  reserved  for 
modern  art,  it  is  evident  that  its  productions  refer 
to  a  higher  faith  than  the  Greek  religion,  and  that 
for  it,  a  mightier  magician  than  the  ancient  priest, 
has  smitten  the  rock  of  humanity  with  a  more  po- 
tent rod,  unsealing  its  deepest  springs  of  feeling  and 
religious  life. 

Especially  may  we  see  this  in  modern  poetry. 
For  everything  which  gives  it  a  distinctive  charac- 
ter, it  is  dependent  on  Christianity.  The  deeper 


96  BEAUTT  AND   RELIGION. 

elements  of  modern  tragedy  have  been  borrowed 
from  the  purer  revelations  of  duty  through  the 
Saviour,  the  new  revelation  which  his  religion 
Brought  of  human  destiny,  and  the  higher  sanctions 
it  imposed  on  virtue.  Hamlet's  restless  longing, 
and  continually  flying  ideal  of  life,  are  Christian. 
It  is  -by  Christian  light  that  we  look  down,  with 
such  deep  emotions  of  tragic  delight,  the  ecstacy  of 
awe,  into  the  ravines  of  human  nature,  the  chasms 
and  abysses  of  human  will  opened  to  us  in  Mac- 
beth. And  even  in  that  beautiful  imitation  of  the 
ancient  models,  faultless  in  diction,  around  which  is 
thrown  such  tragic  horror,  and  yet  such  witchery  of 
grace,  in  Talfourd's  Ion,  we  cannot  help  feeling  that 
the  unities  have,  after  all,  been  somehow  violated  ; 
that  a  little  of  Christianity  has  crept  into  Argos  before 
the  time  ;  and,  that  the  finest  passages  were  inspired, 
not  by  Greek  philosophy,  but  by  the  purer  element 
of  Christian  love. 

And  not  alone  by  purifying  moral  beauty  has 
Christianity  assisted  the  poetic  art ;  it  has  altered 
the  significance  of  nature.  Between  natural  beauty 
and  our  religion,  there  is  a  sympathy  equally  appar- 
ent. The  doctrines  of  Christianity  were  caught  by 
the  Saviour  from  the  outward  world.  His  finer 
sense  appreciated  its  hidden  meaning ;  his  ear  was 
bent  in  reverence,  and  caught  the  faintest  whisper 
from  her  mystic  oracles.  The  flowers  revealed  their 
doctrine  of  universal  Providence ;  he  followed  back 
the  rain  to  its  source  in  the  fountains  of  Divine  be- 
nevolence ;  he  analyzed  the  sunlight,  and  unravelled 


BEAUTY   AND   RELIGION.  97 

from  it  the  splendid  truth  of  God's  impartial  love. 
And  ever  since,  has  the  spirit  of  Christianity  been 
drawing  men  into  a  nearer  sympathy  with  nature 
and  a  more  intimate  communion  with  her  hidden 
life.  The  perception  of  this  spiritual  sense  in  the 
outward  universe  is  now  the  surest  gauge  of  poetic 
inspiration.  In  vain  shall  we  look  for  it  in  the  elder 
poets  and  dramatists.  There  are  fine  descriptions  of 
natural  scenery  in  Homer ;  splendid  imagery  in  the 
Greek  tragedies  ;  and  exquisite  personifications  of 
physical  forces ;  but  nowhere  a  perception  of  that 
delicate  bond  that  binds  the  outward  world  to  man. 
Between  "  Prometheus Vinctus  "  and  the  Prometheus 
Unbound,"  there  is  all  the  difference  that  separates 
two  civilizations.  Shelley  was  no  professed  believer, 
he  could  not  throw  off  the  unconscious  Christian- 
ity that  lay  around  his  genius  like  the  air,  nourishing 
his  creations  with  different  sustenance,  and  inform- 
ing them  with  a  deeper  meaning  than  JEschylus  could 
draw  from  Greek  mythology.  The  Christian  reve- 
lation has  extended  the  feeling  of  brotherhood  to  all 
the.  powers  that  constitute  the  life  of  nature.  It 
would  seem  that  the  boldest  speculations  of  modern 
science,  which  tell  us  that  men  have  risen  by  grad- 
ual development  from  inorganic  matter,  are  hinted 
there,  and  therefore  is  it  that,  in  our  better  mo- 
ments we  feel  such  intense  and  silent  sympathy  with 
the  fettered  consciousness  and  imprisoned  feeling  of 
our  former  state.  This  is  the  soul  of  the  best  mod- 
ern poetry  ;  and  it  is  wholly  religious,  wholly  Chris- 
tian. How  have  the  best  minds  of  our  century 
7 


98  BEAUTY   AND  RELIGION. 

striven  to  grasp  the  depth  of  natural  beauty! 
Wordsworth  hears  in  the  outward  world 

"  The  still,  sad  music  of  humanity." 

In  his  periods  of  deeper  communion  with  nature, 
he  confesses  the  feeling  of 

"  A  presence  that  disturbs  me  with  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts ;  a  sense  sublime 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused, 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean,  and  the  living  air, 
And  the  blue  sky,  and  in  the  mind  of  man." 

Beauty  reveals  to  him,  besides  the  sensible  impres- 
sions, — 

"  Authentic  tidings  of  invisible  things; 
Of  ebb  and  flow,  and  ever-during  power, 
And  central  peace,  subsisting  at  the  heart 
Of  endless  agitation." 

Shelley's  refined  and  spiritual  perception  can  only 
catch 

"  The  awful  shadow  of  some  unseen  power 

Floating  unseen  among  us. 

Dear  and  yet  dearer  for  its  mystery." 

Mr.  Bailey  asks,  in  Festus, — 

"  How  can  beauty  of  material  things 
So  win  the  heart,  and  work  upon  the  mind, 
Unless  like  natured  with  them  ?    Are  great  things 
And  thoughts  of  the  same  blood  f    They  have  like  effect." 

And  Mr.  Emerson,  despite  the  keenness  of  his 
glance,  which  generally  interprets  the  finest  shades 
of  consciousness,  waits  for  the  coming  of  a  greater 


BEAUTY   AND    RELIGION.  99 

master,  who  shall  express  what  he  dimly  feels,  and 
show  "  that  the  ought,  that  duty  is  one  with  science, 
with  beauty^  and  with  joy."  Thus  do  we  find  that 
Christianity  accepts  and  sanctions  the  idea  with  which 
we  started,  —  that  beauty  is  associated  with  relig- 
ious culture  by  the  influence  it  has  exerted  in  every 
department  of  the  sphere  of  taste,  assisting  us  to 
see  more  clearly  that  beauty  is  one  with  truth,  and 
that  of  both  religion  is  the  highest  manifestation 
and  central  bond. 


IV. 

GREAT  PRINCIPLES  AND  SMALL  DUTIES. 


IT  is  a  beautiful  fact  in  the  ethics  of  the  gospel, 
that  great  principles  do  not  require  great  occasions 
for  their  exercise  and  exhibition.  The  spirit  of 
Christianity  teaches  us,  both  by  verbal  precept  and 
through  the  embodied  eloquence  of  the  Saviour's 
character,  that  it  is  the  highest  office  of  great  prin- 
ciples to-  dignify  the  common  experience  of  men : 
they  are  manifested  best  in  trifling  acts ;  they  raise 
the  level  of  daily  life  to  a  higher  elevation,  and 
reveal  their  active  presence  most  completely  in 
homely  and  familiar  duties.  "  Whosoever,"  said 
Jesus,  "  shall  give  to  drink  unto  one  of  these  little 
ones  a  cup  of  cold  water  only,  in  the  name  of  a 
disciple,  verily  -I  say  unto  you,  he  shall  in  nowise 
lose  his  reward."  We  intend  to  follow  out  the 
thought  suggested  in  that  passage  into  some  of  its 
present  applications  to  men. 

It  is  not  unusual,  in  our  time,  to  hear  complaints 
of  the  meanness  of 'modern  life.  There  are  many 
who  mourn  that  existence  has  become  so  dull  and 
mechanical.  There  is  no  charm,  no  healthy  excite- 
ment, no  beauty  in  the  common  experience  of  the 

100 


GREAT   PRINCIPLES   AND   SMALL   DUTIES.'        101 

world  around  us ;  nothing  to  feel  an  aspiring,  imagi- 
native, poetic  mind.  Everything  is  prosaic  now :  the 
spirit  of  business,  omnipresent,  all-active,  and  omnip- 
otent, has  reduced  life  to  square  and  rule.  Surprise, 
romance,  and  heroism,  have  been  banished  from  ex- 
istence. The  stern  utilitarian  tendencies  of  the 
present  have  degraded  life  to  a  lower  plane,  and,  by 
connecting  society  in  the  simplest  relations,  and  thus 
bringing  men  Tinder  the  dominion  of  obvious  and 
easy  duties,  have  made  experience  flat,  monotonous, 
and  insipid.  Those  persons  are  not  few,  whose  minds 
are  restless  under  the  unpoetic  aspect  of  the  life  we 
live ;  whose  ideal  is  borrowed  from  novel  pictures, 
or  from  the  dramatic  side  of  history  ;  and  who,  if 
their  imagination  is  kept  alive,  lapse  into  melancholy, 
sentimental  languor,  acquire  a  distaste  for  all  the 
burdens  and  duties  of  our  daily  existence,  and 
delude  themselves  with  the  idea,  that  they  are  above 
their  age,  of  finer  mould  than  their  coarse  contem- 
poraries, born  out  of  season,  ill-appreciated  by  their 
dull  companions. 

All  that  looks  attractive  to  such  minds  is  seen  in 
the  past,  or  is  expected  from  the  future.  The  pres- 
ent is  but  a  half-built  bridge,  loaded  with  the  rub- 
bish of  degrading  toil,  which  has  drawn  us  away 
from  the  Elysium  behind,  and  not  yet  permitted  us 
to  reach  the  Eden  before.  The  time  of  Caesar,  the 
age  of  chivalry,  or  of  the  Refortnation,  or  of  Shak- 
speare  ;  the  lives  of  men  like  Napoleon,  or  Washing- 
ton, or  Howard,  who  lived  on  a  large  scale,  and 
whose  deeds  arrest  the  attention  and  fill  the  eye  by 


102  .     GEEAT   PRINCIPLES   AND   SMALL   DUTIES. 

their  grandeur,  seem  to  them  the  only  desirable 
epochs,  the  only  true  and  worthy  lives.  Such  eras 
and  such  fortunes  alone  should  satisfy  the  ambition, 
the  dignity,  the  ideal,  of  an  aspiring  mind.  Beside 
them,  the  scenes,  the  duties,  the  life  o  to-day,  look 
mean  and  barren. 

We  have  the  authority  of  the  gospel  to  assure  us 
that  such  is  a  false  estimate,  a  mistaken  view  of  life. 
It  is  vitiated  by  a  double  error.  It  is  a  false  estimate, 
in  the  first  place,  because  it  attributes  an  unreal 
value  to  the  kind  of  life  by  which  it  is  so  powerfully 
charmed.  The  grandeur*  and  beauty  of  such  a 
seemingly  poetic  existence  are  much  enhanced  by 
contemplating  them  at  a  distance.  Nearness  removes 
most  of  the  gorgeous  hues ;  the  tinsel  and  glitter 
would  soon  grow  wearisome  ;  familiarity  would  make 
all  look  poor  and  mean.  It  is  the  creative  imagina- 
tion that  weaves  the  charm.  Mountains  in  the  dis- 
tance, with  the  rich  haze  upon  them,  to  soften  and 
spiritualize  and  refine  their  outlines,  or  when  gilded 
with  the  glory  of  the  morning,  or  the  luxury  of  the 
evening  light,  look  tempting  and  beautiful,  fit  for 
the  common  residence  of  gods.  But  when  we  visit 
them,  the  spell  is  broken ;  they  are  rocky,  rugged, 
cold,  and  barren ;  it  tires  our  limbs  to  climb  their 
steep  ascents  ;  we  gladly  escape  from  their  uninvit- 
ing sides,  to  thecommqn,  customary  comforts  of  our 
less  showy  and  poetic  homes.  And  so  with  those 
tempting  circumstances  for  which  so  many  sigh. 
Once  attained,  we  should  be  no  more  satisfied  with 
life.  Habit  would  socn  destroy  the  glossy  lustre. 


GREAT   PRINCIPLES  AND   SMALL   DUTIES.    ,     103 

The  society  of  courts,  daily  intercourse  with  kings 
and  emperors  and  heroes  would  soon  pall  the  spirit, 
and  convince  it  that  a  worthier,  more  noble  existence 
must  be  found  to  satisfy  the  craving,  grasping  soul. 
And  this  romantic  estimate  of  life  is  false,  too, 
not  only  because  it  overrates  the  charm  of  its  favor- 
ite mode,  but  radically  false  because  it  overlooks  the 
object  and  aim  of  life,  the  destiny  of  the  soul. 
Christianity  advises  us  that  we  were  placed  in  the 
world  to  develop  character,  to  unfold  our  powers, 
to  grow  in  moral  strength.  It  is  the  final  purpose 
of  the  soul,  not  to  be  an  ornamennt  merely  to  some 
great  occasion,  not  to  make  a  show,  not  to  live  on 
the  stage  as  an  actor,  dressed  in  ribbons  and  spangles, 
but  to  be  educated,  to  put  forth  its  strength,  to  live 
in  accordance  with  the  great  principles  of  duty  and 
and  right.  Here  lies  the  error  in  all  poetic  and 
overwrought  imaginative  views  of  the  world.  Man 
was  not  created  for  some  dazzling  end  ;  but  for  cul- 
ture, continual,  steady,  moral  power.  The  sun  was 
not  placed  in  the  heavens  to  inflame  and  awe  the 
imagination  of  men,  to  spout  cataracts  of  fire,  and 
blaze  fitfully,  with  a  grand,  poetic  splendor,  but 'to 
radiate  an  even  heat,  and  call  forth  continually  the 
energies  of  dependent  planets,  by  the  unvaried 
bounty  of  its  beams.  It  fulfils  its  destiny  at  every 
moment,  by  a  life  of  constant  use.  It  is  so  with 
man.  The  attainment  of  our  destiny  is  not  reached 
by  any  particular  form  of  life,  but  by  continual 
development  and  unwearied  use.  We  were  not 
made  for  such  or  such  a  good,  but  for  perpetual 


104         GREAT   PRINCIPLES   AND  SMALL   DUTIES. 

culture.  We  must  not  hope  to  live  at  some  future 
time,  at  some  more  favorable  period,  at  the  end  of 
the  next  week  or  the  next  year,  when  we  have  retired 
from  business,  or  have  removed,  perhaps,  from  the 
city.  •  There  are  no  divisions  of  periods,  no  stopping- 
places,  where  we  may  change  our  raiment  and  begin 
to  live.  The  existence  is  in  each  moment,  however 
and  wherever  it  may  find  us  ;  the  journey's  end  is  in 
every  step  of  the  road. 

The  moral  beauty  of  Christianity  is  seen  in  this  : 
that  it  reveals  the  grandeur  of  common  life  and 
humble  virtues,  that  it  throws  an  infinite  value  into 
the  smallest  actions,  that  it  transfers  our  gaze  from 
the  scale  of  the  deed  to  the  spirit  of  the  deed,  that 
it  makes  the  circumstances  of  small  account,  and 
the  motive  all ;  showing  us  that  a  cup  of  cold  water, 
given  in  the  name  of  a  disciple,  and  from  the  im- 
pulse of  love,  will  bring  the  disciple's  reward.  It 
shows  us  that  great  principles  are  tested  best  by  the 
performance  of  small  duties,  and  that  the  spiritual 
development,  which  is  the  real  end  of  life,  is  bet- 
ter attained  by  continual  discipline,  than  by  great 
achievements. 

We  estimate  life  aright,  we  understand  its  dig- 
nity and  its  toil,  only  when  we  judge  it  by  this 
Christian  standard.  The  aim  of  the  gospel  is  to 
perfect  character ;  and  a  noble  character  is  revealed 
in  little  deeds,  and  is  attained  only  by  discipline 
and  triumphs  in  common,  habitual  trials.  We 
ought  not  to  suffer  moral  judgments  to  be  blinded 
by  the  glare  of  circumstances  and  scenes.  It  is 


GREAT  PRINCIPLES  AND   SMALL  DUTIES.        105 

easier  than  we  imagine  to  become  a  martyr  ;  to  die 
calmly  in  defence  of  right  when  the  world  is  look- 
ing on,  when  we  are  a  spectacle  to  the  crowded  am- 
phitheatre of  the  universe,  to  an  audience  of  angels 
and  men,  and  when  hope  of  escape  is  dead.  It  is 
noble  —  godlike,  if  you  please  to  call  it  so  —  to 
triumph  then  ;  but  it  is  not  the  most  unerring  test 
of  greatness  and  strength  of  soul.  That  is  the 
purest  greatness  and  the  firmest  strength  which 
overcomes  the  toughest  obstacles  to  a  lofty  and  holy 
life  ;  and  those  obstacles,  every  practical  Christian 
will  confess,  are  the  little  cares  and  trifling  per- 
plexities and  incessant  temptations  of  daily  experi- 
ence. These  are  the  gnats  that  worry  the  sturdiest 
virtue.  Goliah  was  proof  against  a  steel-clad  ar- 
ray, but  not  against  the  despicable  weapon,  David's 
sling ;  and  many  a  moral  giant  has  fallen  before  as 
puny  an  attack.  "  The  finest  sense,  the  profoundest 
knowledge,  the  mo^t  unquestionable  taste,  often 
prove  an  unequal  match  for  insignificant  irrita- 
tions ;  and  a  man  whose  philosophy  subdues  nature, 
and  whose  force  of  thought  and  purpose  gives  him 
ascendancy  over  men,  may  keep,  in  his  own  temper, 
an  unvanquished  enemy  at  home." 

It  is  easier  to  fulfil  the  greatest  than  the  smallest 
task.  It  is  easier  to  perform  the  moral  deed  which 
the  world  must  witness  than  to  crush  the  small 
temptation  which  comes  in  our  private  hours,  invit- 
ing to  a  little  sin  which  the  world  can  never  know. 
He  is  the  moral  hero  —  how  few  who  can  challenge 
the  title !  —  that  can  resist  the  almost  harmless  im- 


106        GREAT  PRINCIPLES  AND   SMALL   DUTIES. 

pulse  of  selfishness,  like  that  which  prompted  the 
miiid  of  Christ  to  turn  the  stones  to  bread  ;  who 
can  go  through  the  day  and  feel  that  he  has  been 
faithful  to  every  call  of  every  moment,  and  has 
lived  in  Christian  relations  with  every  man  whom 
he  has  met.  And,  therefore,  small  duties  are  the 
real  test  of  power.  You  cannot  know  a  man's  tem- 
per in  company ;  see  him  at  home.  You  cannot 
judge  his  piety  at  church  ;  observe  him  through 
the  business  hours  of  a  single  day.  You  cannot 
infer  his  benevolence  from  his  public  charities  and 
large  subscriptions ;  watch  his  intercourse  with  the 
poor.  It  is  the  frequent  gifts,  yes,  it  is  the  manner 
of  giving,  more  than  the  charity,  the  sweet  expres- 
sion, the  cordial  sympathy,  the  tone  of  kindness, 
which  makes  the  penny  of  more  value  then  the 
coldly  given  pound ;  it  is  these,  and  the  frequency 
of  these,  that  determine  the  purity  and  love  of  a 
person's  soul. 

The  common  complaints  of  almost  every  person, 
our  incessant  quarrels  with  our  fortune  and  lot,  at- 
test the  value  and  difficulty  of  these  small  duties, 
and  show  us  that  the  performance  of  them  alone  is 
the  surest  sign  of  moral  vigor.  "  How  gentle  should 
we  be,  if  we  were  not  provoked  ;  how  pious,  if 
we  were  not  busy  !  the  sick  would  be  patient,  only 
he  is  not  in  health;  the  obscure  would  do  great 
things,  only  he  is  not  conspicuous  !  "  It  is  the  great 
soul  only  which  does  not  quarrel  with  its  tools,  but 
relies  upon  its  skill.  It  is  the  noblest  character  that 
can  be  gentle  in  provocation,  and  pious  in  business, 


GREAT   PRINCIPLES   AND  SMALL   DUTIES.         107 

and  patient  in  sickness,  and  faithful  to  the  humble 
duties  of  obscurity.  Beauty  of  soul,  like  the  beauty 
of  a  statue,  results  from  the  complete  symmetry 
of  the  smallest  parts ;  and  it  is  minute  care  and 
perpetual  discipline  alone  that  can  bring  the'  spirit 
to  that  standard,  and  which  reveal  the  Master's 
hand.  "  Why  waste  time  on  such  trifles  ?  "  said  a 
friend  to  Michael  Angelo,  who  consumed  weeks  in 
the  finish  of  a  muscle  and  the  form  of  an  ear.  "  It 
is  these  trifles  that  constitue  perfection,"  —  replied 
the  artist,  —  "  and  perfection  is  no  trifle." 

They  have  strangely  mistaken  life,  then,  who  sigh 
for  propitious  or  more  poetic  circumstances,  in  or- 
der to  give  it  dignity.  Let  them  endeavor  to  live  a 
single  day  in  the  privacy  of  their  own  homes,  obe- 
dient to  the  Christian  law  of  life,  and  they  will 
learn  how  needless  are  all  trappings  to  make  a  mar- 
tyr or  a  hero.  For  the  keenest  intellect  that  ever 
thought,  for  the  finest  genius  that  ever  refreshed 
the  heart  of  the  world,  it  is  a  virtue  sufficiently  ar- 
duous, it  is  a  moral  triumph  brilliant  enough  to 
keep  the  hours  true,  to  fulfil  the  obligations  of 
daily  life,  to  refrain  from  slander,  to  be  resigned  in 
sorrow,  and  to  remember  the  poor.  It  was  said  of 
the  great  orator  and  philosopher,  Edmund  Burke, 
that  a  stranger  could  not  stand  under  a  shed  with 
him  for  five  minutes,  during  a  summer  shower,  with- 
out knowing  he  was  in  company  with  a  great  genius. 
The  power  of  the  man  would  reveal  itself  in  his 
casual  talk.  The  die  of  his  intellect  was  stamped 
even  on  his  insignificant  coin.  And  so  the  purity, 


108        GREAT  PRINCIPLES   AND   SMALL  DUTIES. 

the  power,  of  a  trained  and  vigorous  virtue,  de- 
pends not  on  the  occasion,  but  will  disclose  itself  in 
the  slightest  and  most  trival  act.  We  may  not  all 
be  Alexanders.  His  genius  was  no  merit  of  his  ; 
but  we  may  do  what,  with  all  that  genius,  he  could 
not  do,  —  and  that  is,  keep  sober  and  preserve  an 
even  temper.  We  may  not  be  gifted  with  the  intel- 
lect of  Bacon  ;  but,  nobler  than  Bacon,  we  may 
keep  our  honor  pure,  and  never  betray  a  friend. 
We  cannot  become  Napoleons  ;  but,  in  the  private 
.  walks  of  life,  we  may  acquire  strength  to  do  what 
the  hero  of  Marengo  and  Lodi  was  unable  to  ac- 
complish, —  always  to  tell  the  truth.  Their  genius 
performed  their  miracles  ;  they  fell  before  the  plain 
and  simple  demands  of  duty.  Truly,  Solomon -was 
right :  "  He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is  better  than  the 
mighty,  and  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit  than  he  that 
fcaketh  a  city." 

We  may  learn  a  beautiful  lesson  on  the  moral 
worth  of  small  duties  by  observing  the  method  of 
nature,  —  the  wisdom  of  God  in  the  outward 
world.  Perfection,  in  nature,  is  not  measured  on 
the  scale  of  magnificence,  but  by_  the  quality  of 
the  work.  We  cannot  exhaust  the  analogies  be- 
tween nature  and  the  gospel,"  they  are  so  com- 
pletely in  harmony ;  and  we  may  say,  that  the 
whole  universe  is  the  intellectual  statement  and 
explanation  of  the  morality  of  Jesus ;  —  the  value 
of  the  trivial  fact  is  an  expression  of  the  great 
principle.  Men  of  science  are  continually  sur- 
prised to  find  how  the  most  astonishing  results  are 


CHEAT   PRINCIPLES  AND   SMALL   DUTIES.         109 

crowded  into  and  implied  in  the  narrowest  com- 
pass. "  The  whole  code  of  natural  laws  may  be 
written  on  the  thumb-nail,  or  the  signet  of  a  ring." 
Examine  the  structure  and  observe  the  growth  of 
a  single  wild  violet,  and  it  will  be  seen  that  every 
force  of  the  universe,  and  the  vast  mechanism 
of  the  heavens,  are  necessary  to  the  development 
of  its  simple  life.  Astronomy  and  geology  and 
chemistry  are  all  written  in  its  fibres,  buds,  and 
stem.  The  roots  of  it  strike  deeper  into  the  heart 
of  nature  'than  into  the  soil  from  which  it  springs. 
It  lives  by  the  action  of  laws  that  are  equally  es- 
sential to  the  existence  of  the  great  globe  itself. 
It  is  watered  by  rain,  drawn  from  the  treasures  of 
the  ocean ;  its  nightly  blessing  of  dew  is  distilled 
from  the  atmosphere  which  supports  all  animated 
life  ;  it  is  held  firmly  in  its  place  by  the  all-per- 
vading force  that  gives  stability  to  the  architecture 
of  the  sky ;  it  is  expanded  into  beauty  by  the 
warm  stream  of  life  that  weaves  its  tissue  around 
the  solar  system,  —  burning  on  Mercury,  and  car- 
rying his  dim  day  to  distant  Saturn.  And  thus 
the  whole  universe  exists  as  an  inference,  a  corol- 
lary of  one  simple  flower. 

Dig  a  flint  from  the  bosom  of  the  mountain ; 
and,  when  it  is  broken,  its  sides  will  reveal  to  the 
microscope  the  fire  which  hardened  it  and  the 
waters  through  which  it  passed,  the  convulsions 
and  catastrophes  it  has  known,  and  the  fossil  ani- 
malcules which  it  holds ;  showing  us  that  the  his- 
tory of  the  great  globe  may  be  deduced  from  the 


110         GREAT   PRINCIPLES  AND   SMALL   DUTIES. 

experience  and  changes  of  that  single  pebble. 
From  a  solitary  scale  of  a  fish,  found  petrified  in 
a  stone,  the  naturalist  has  reconstructed  its  whole 
frame,  has  announced  that  it  belonged  to  a  species 
become  extinct,  has  stated  the  kind  and  tempera- 
ture of  the  waters  in  which  alone  it  could  have 
lived,  and  so  again  has  discovered,  in  that  tiny 
vestige,  the  secret  of  the  geological  epochs.  If  we 
go  to  nature  for  our  morals,  we  shall  learn  the  ne- 
cessity of  perfection  in  the  smallest  act.  Infinite 
skill  is  not  exhausted  nor  concentrated  in  the 
structure  of  a  firmament,  in  drawing  the  orbit  of 
a  planet,  in  laying  the  strata  of  the  earth,  in  rear- 
ing the  mountain  cone.  The  care  for  the  bursting 
flower  is  as  wise  as  the  forces  displayed  in  the  roll- 
ing star ;  the  smallest  leaf  that  falls  and  dies  un- 
noticed in  the  forest  is  wrought  with  a  beauty  as 
exquisite  as  the  skill  displayed  in  the  sturdy  oak. 
All  the  wisdom  of  nature  is  compressed  and  re- 
vealed in  the  sting  of  the  bee ;  and  the  pride  of  hu- 
man art  is  mocked  by  the  subtile  mechanism  and 
cunning  structure  of  a  fly's  foot  and  wing.  How- 
ever minute  the  task,  it  reveals  the  polish  of  per- 
fection. Omnipotent  skill  is  stamped  on  the  in- 
finitely small,  as  on  the  infinitely  great.  It  is  a 
moral  .stenography  like  this  which  we  need  in  daily 
life.  We  attain  the  summit  of  Christian  excellence, 
when  we  obey  the  instructions  of  nature,  and  learn, 
in  the  common  acts  of  every  day,  to  manifest  the 
beauty  of  a  spiritual  character,  —  to  leave  in 
trifling  duties  the  impress  of  a  noble  soul,  —  tore- 


GREAT   PRINCIPLES  AND   SMALL   DUTIES.        Ill 

fleet  on  common  life  the  radiance  of  a  pure  and 
holy  nature,  —  to  make  a  cup  of  cold  water,  daily 
given  to  the  suffering  in  the  spirit  of  love,  testify, 
with  eloquent  emphasis,  to  the  grace  and  health 
and  beauty  of  our  general  existence. 

The  lesson  of  Christianity,  then,  urged  and  en- 
forced .by  nature,  is  the  inestimable  worth  of  com- 
mon duties,  as  manifesting  the  greatest  principles ; 
it  bids  us  attain  perfection,  not  by  striving  to  do 
dazzling  deeds,  but  by  making  our  experience  di- 
vine ;  it  tells  us  that  the  Christian  hero  will  en- 
noble the  humblest  field  of  labor ;  that  nothing  is 
mean  which  can  be  performed  as  duty ;  but  that 
religious  virtue,  like  the  touch  of  Midas,  converts 
the  humblest  call  of  conscience  into  spiritual  gold. 

The  Greek  philosopher,  Plato,  has  left  an  in- 
structive and  beautiful  poetic  picture  of  the  judg- 
ment of  souls,  when  they  had  been  collected  from 
the  regions  of  temporary  bliss  and  pain,  and  suf- 
fered once  more  to  return  to  the  duties  and  pleas- 
ures of  earthly  life.  The .  spirits  advanced  by  lot, 
to  make  their  choice  of  the  condition  and  form 
under  which  they  should  reenter  the  world.  The 
dazzling  and  showy  fortunes,  the  lives  of  kings 
and  warriors  and  statesmen  were  soon  exhausted ; 
and  the  spirit  of  Ulysses,  who  had  been  the  wisest 
prince  among  all  the  Greeks,  came  last  to  choose. 
He  advanced  with  sorrow,  fearing  that  his  favorite 
condition  had  been  selected  by  some  more  fortu- 
nate soul  who  had  gone  before  him.  But,  to  his 
surprise  and  pleasure,  Ulysses  found  that  the  only 


112        GEE  AT  PRINCIPLES  AND   SMALL  DUTIES. 

life  which  had  not  been  chosen  was  the  lot  of  an 
obscure  and  private  man,  with  its  humble  cares 
and  quiet  joys ;  the  lot  which  he,  the  wisest,  would 
have  selected,  had  his  turn  come  first ;  the  life  for 
which  he  longed,  since  he  had  felt  the  folly  and 
meanness  of  station,  wealth,  and  power. 

In  like  manner,  though  in  a  far  different  spirit, 
Christianity  teaches  us  the  beauty  and  dignity  of 
common  and  private  life.  It  makes  it  valuable, 
not  as  Plato  did,  for  the  cares  from  which  it  frees 
us,  but  for  the  constant  duties  through  which  we 
may  train  the  soul  to  perfect  symmetry  and  power. 
It  shows  us  that  the  humblest  lot  brings  calls  and 
opportunities  which  require  all  the  energies  of  the 
most  exalted  virtue  to  meet  and  satisfy.  It  teaches 
us  that,  "  in  the  management  and  conquest  of  the 
daily  disappointments  and  small  vexations  which 
befall  every  life,  only  a  devout  mind  attains  to  any 
real  success,  and  evinces  a  triumphant  might."  It 
impresses  upon  us  the  solemn  truth,  that  life  itself, 
however  humble  its  condition,  is  always  holy ;  that 
every  moment  has  its  duty  and  its  burden,  which 
Christian  strength  alone,  the  crown  of  power,  can 
do  and  bear ;  and  that  the  perfect  character  is  the 
character  of  Jesus,  who  fulfilled  the  greatest  mis- 
sion in  the  humblest  walk,  and  showed  to  the 
world  that  the  simplest  experience  may  become 
radiant  with  a  heavenly  beauty,  when  hallowed  by 
a  spirit  of  constant  love  to  God  and  man. 


V. 

PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.1 


IT  is  our  desire  to  define  in  this  article,  as  fully 
as  our  limits  will  allow,  and  as  clearly  as  the  nature 
of  the  subject  and  our  own  ability  will  permit,  the 
views  of  Plato  upon  immortality,  with  particular 
reference  to  his  doctrine  concerning  the  condition  of 
the  soul  in  its  disembodied  state.  It  would  seem 
to  be  an  important  acquisition  to  our  knowledge, 
if  we  could  understand  thoroughly  the  faith,  and 
appreciate  the  hopes,  of  a  mind  like  that  of  the  first 
among  Greek  philosophers,  —  a  mind  which  had 
attained  probably  the  perfection  of  heathen  cul- 
ture, and  whose  intellectual  development  may  be 
assumed,  therefore,  to  be  the  goal  and  limit  of 
uninspired  thought.  But  the  difficulties  are  pro- 
portioned to  the  interest  of  the  task.  We  are  not 
acquainted  with  any  exhaustive  examination  of  the 
question,  and  the  conflicting  results  of  commenta- 
tors only  perplex  the  mind,  giving  us  no  assurance, 

1  The  materials  for  the  present  article  are  mostly  drawn  from  Cou- 
sin's French  Translation  of  Plato's  Dialogues,  in  thirteen  volumes,  Paris 
edition;  a-:d  the  references,  accordingly,  are  made  to  that  work,  as  the 
best  mode.n  version  of  the  Greek  philosopher,  and  probably  the  easiest 
of  access  to  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the  original. 

8  113 


114          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY. 

and  little  valuable  aid.  Besides,  few  subjects  offer 
more  perplexities  to  criticism  than  a  complete  anal- 
ysis of  the  Platonic  writings  for  the  purpose  of  un- 
folding a  clear,  dogmatic,  symmetrical  result.  It  is 
exceedingly  difficult  even  to  give,  in  modern  terms, 
an  accurate  statement  of  the  leading  points  of  Pla- 
tonism ;  and  -probably  the  variety  of  opinions  in- 
consistent and  even  contradictory,  which  learned 
men  have  evolved  from  the  words  of  Plato,  can 
only  find  a  parallel  in  the  variety  of  creeds  and  doc- 
trines, which  equally  learned  and  honest  critics 
have  unfolded  from  the  Scriptures.  According  to 
his  commentators,  Plato  becomes  a  Kantian  or  an 
Eclectic,  a  Gnostic  or  a  Swedenborgian.  His  works 
form  a  sort  of  philosophical  kaleidoscope :  turned  by 
one  man,  Plato  appears  a  modern  Orthodox  ;  shifted 
again,  he  is  a  modern  Transcendentalisl.  Cold- 
blooded men,  like  Mr.  Norton,  find  nonsense  in  a 
dialogue  where  warm-hearted,  poetic  spirits,  like 
the  German  Ackerman,  detect  delicate  filaments  of 
the  Christian  faith ;  so  that  it  depends  very  much 
on  the  position  and  relations  of  the  reviewer, 
whether  we  get  a  dissertation  on  Plato  the  sceptic, 
or  Plato  the  polytheist,  or  Plato  the  Christian,  or 
Plato  the  fool.  Even  the  theory  of  ideas,  which  lay 
at  the  base  of  his  speculative  system,  which  is  at 
once  the  corner  and  keystone  of  his  philosophy, 
has  had  almost  as  many  interpretations  as  interpre- 
ters, and  remains,  to-day,  an  unexhausted  subject 
for  criticism  and  dispute.  It  must  be  an  amusing 
task  for  the  spirit  of  Plato  to  observe  the  various 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          115 

judgments  of  different  thinkers ;  to  see  his  system, 
as  it  passes  through  different  minds,  receiving  from 
each  a  subjective  hue  and  form  ;  to  range  side  by 
side  the  motley  group  of  Platonisms  which  the  ages 
have  produced,  from  the  dissertations  of  the  Alex- 
andrian school,  who  found  a  mystic  sense  in  every 
name,  and  a  subtile  meaning  in  the  number  of  inter- 
locutors, to  Sewell,1  who  detects  in  the  Republic  a 
dim  instinct  or  nisus  as  it  were  of  the  Church  of 
England,  and  Mr.  Tayler  Lewis,2  who  grieves  that 
amid  so  much  gospel  doctrine  of  vindictive  punish- 
ment and  eternal  woe, he  can  find  "nothing  of  that 
great  atonement  which  forms  the  basis  of  the  Chris- 
tian scheme." 

The  cause  of  this  diversity  certainly  cannot  be 
attributed  to  any  lack  of  precision  in  Plato's  terms ; 
for  his  diction  is  clear  and  pure,  a  transparent 
medium  of  thought.  The  English  critic,  alluded  to 
above,  finding  a  similar  obscurity  in  the  Scriptures, 
takes  occasion  to  hint,  as  a  solution,  that  Plato  pos- 
sibly is  inspired.  If  we  are  not  disposed  to  acqui- 
esce in  this  opinion,  we  may  find  a  more  probable 
explanation  in  the  nature  and  design  of  Plato's 
works.  Perhaps  it  is  needless  to  inform  our  read- 
ers that  no  definite,  dogmatic  statement  of  his  phi- 
losophy was  ever  given  from  Plato's  pen.  His  writ- 

1  Sewell's  Introduction  to  the  Dialogues  of  Plato ;  a  powerfully  writ- 
ten, and  very  amusing  book. 

2  Plato  against  the  Atheists,  or  the  Tenth  Book  of  the  Laws,  with 
notes,  etc.,  by  Tayler  Lewis,  L.L.  D.,  the  last  classical  development  of 
Orthodoxy. 


116          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMOETALITY. 

ings  were  isolated,  and  form  no  organic  developed 
whole.  They  consist  chiefly  of  dialogues  upon 
various  topics  of  morality  and  religion,  through  the 
most  of  which  Socrates  is  introduced  as  the  central 
figure,  for  the  purpose  of  controverting  the  opinions 
of  others  ;  himself  examining  and  refuting  proposi- 
tions by  the  use  of  a  rigorous  analysis  and  dialecti- 
cal skill,  but  rarely  proposing  positive  opinions  of 
his  own,  or  leaving  a  definite  impression  upon  the 
reader's  mind.  Plato  never  speaks  in  his  own 
person,  or  with  a  purely  didactic  aim.  He  loved 
the  dialogistic  method ;  he  was  the  greatest  artist 
in  composition,  probably,  that  ever  lived ;  and  tins 
form  offered  a  wider  scope  and  less  restraint  to  the 
range  of  his  taste  and  powers.  When  we  consider, 
therefore,  that  his  dialogues  amount  to  more  than 
thirty ;  that  many  of  them  were  written,  seemingly, 
for  no  other  end  than  a  display  of  logical  acuteuess 
or  skill ;  that,  through  their  dramatis  persona;,  they 
embody  the  opinions  of  almost  every  prior  and  con- 
temporary school ;  that  some  may  be  intended  to 
represent  scenes  from  the  history  of  Socrates,  and 
develop  opinions  which  Plato  did  not  indorse  ;  and 
that  they  were  composed  at  widely  different  periods 
of  life,  —  some  running  back,  probably, -to  his  early 
youth,  and  others  employing  his  dying  moments  in 
their  revision, — we  may  well  suppose  that  it  is  a  task 
of  no  ordinary  difficulty  to  condense  and  arrange  his 
views  into  a  consistent  body  of  didactic  statements 
and  opinions,  nicely  balanced  and  scientifically 
evolved. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMOETALITY.  117 

Besides,  at  the  very  outset  of  our  researches  into 
the  real  nature  of  Plato's  views,  we  are  met  and 
staggered  by  the  question,  —  Have  we  any  trusty 
sources  from  which  to  draw  his  secret  doctrines  ? 
Are  his  published  writings  authentic  'records  of  his 
honest  thought  ?  Has  he  imparted  in  his  dialogues, 
without  reservation,  the  essence  of  his  views  as 
they  existed  in  his  own  mind,  or  as  they  were  deliv- 
ered to  his  pupils  in  the  retirement  and  confidence 
of  his  school  ?  This  is  a  point  which  demands  more 
space  for  a  thorough  discussion  than  we  can  afford 
for  our  whole  subject ;  but,  as  it  is  an  essential 
condition  to  critical  success  in  any  department  of 
his  system,  we  must  give  a  few  words  to  it  by  way 
of  introduction. 

From  the  circumstances  of  the  time,  from  a  few 
passages  of  Plato  himself,  and  from  the  spirit  and 
structure  of  many  of  his  works,  we  are  convinced 
that  while  the  great  body  of  the  dialogues  indicate, 
hint,  and  suggest  the  elements  of  his  philosophy,  in 
no  one  of  them,  nor  in  all  of  them  can  we  find  an 
entirely  unreserved  and  honest  expression  of  his 
views.  He  lived  among  a  people  who  certainly 
had  not  shown  a  great  attachment  to  innovations 
on  the  popular  creed.  Anaxagoras  had  been  ban- 
ished and  Socrates  condemned,  for  the  purity  of 
their  speculations  and  the  long-established  feud 
between  philosophy  and  paganism  had  not  suffi- 
ciently subsided,  to  render  it  safe  for  any  man  to 
evince  extraordinary  boldness  in  the  domain  of 
morals.  A  wise  prudence  was  the  better  rule  of 


118          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

war ;  and  Plato  had  every  warning  in  the  fate  of 
his  predecessors,  to  deter  him  at  least  from  a  rash- 
ness which  would  have  proved  fatal  to  success. 
The  long  life  and  quiet  death  of  the  philosopher 
would  seem  themselves  to  indicate  that  he  used 
some  policy  in  his  public  dealing  with  the  popular 
faith  of  the  time.  Moreover,  we  find  in  some  of 
his  works  expressions,  which,  if  rigidly  interpreted, 
forbid  us  to  expect  any  thorough  exposition  of  his 
philosophy  in  written  disquisitions.  In  the  Phae- 
drus,  for  instance,  Socrates  makes  a  decided  and 
somewhat  lengthy  attack  upon  writing,  as  a  me- 
dium for  imparting  clear  and  solid  knowledge.  He 
labors  to  show  that  severe  dialectical  discourse  is 
the  only  method  of  instruction.  Written  state- 
ments can  be  moulded  into  any  form,  according  to 
the  reader's  mind ;  they  know  not  with  whom  to 
speak,  or  with  whom  they  should  maintain  silence  ; 
unjustly  attacked,  or  misunderstood,  they  cannot 
answer,  but,  like  a  weak  child,  constantly  need 
their  father's  aid ;  and  therefore  the  best  written 
compositions  are  useful  merely  to  awaken  reminis- 
cence in  the  minds  of  those  who  know  already  the 
subjects  of  which  they  treat.1  The  letters  of  Plato, 
of  which  thirteen  are  left,  would  seem  to  be  explicit 
on  this  point.  In  the  second  and  seventh  he  ex- 
pressly declares  that  the  deepest  science  cannot  be 
taught  in  words  ;  that  after  a  pure  life  of  medita- 
tion it  bursts  forth  like  a  spark,  like  gold  becoming 
pure  only  after  long  years  and  toil,  and  that  every 

1  Vol.  vi.  pp.  123, 124. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          119 

man  seriously  occupied  with  things  so  serious, 
should  restrain  himself  from  treating  them  fully 
in  writings  intended  for  the  public.1  He  confesses 
that  his  writings  are  not  without  merit,  but  de- 
clares that  they  do  not  contain  that  deep  and  pure 
science  which  conversation  and  reflection  alone  can 
bestow.  It  is  proper  to  state  that  the  genuineness 
of  these  letters*  has  been  questioned  and  severely- 
tested  by  many  modern  critics.  The  whole  evi- 
dence of  antiquity,  however,  is  in  their  favor,  and 
they  have  been  rejected  mainly  on  account  of  those 
passages  that  speak  of  an  esoteric  wisdom  which 
the  dialogues  do  not  convey.2 

If  we  take  these  declarations  of  Plato  in  the  sense 
which  probably  they  require,  namely,  that  no  one  of 
his  works  contains  a  full  and  exhaustive  treatment 
of  his  system,  and  that  in  them  are  many  accommo- 
dations to  popular  prejudice  and  superstition,  they 

1  Vol.  xiii.  Letter  2,  p.  61.    Letter  7,  pp.  96, 100. 

*  Cicero  quotes  from  the  fifth  and  seventh  Letters,  and  in  the  Tuscu- 
lan  Questions  remarks,  "  Est  praeclara  epistola  Platonis  ad  Dionis  pro- 
pinquos;  "  also,  Ad  Atticum,  I.  xiii.  mentions  that  a  certain  Hermodo- 
rus  was  accustomed  to  publish  the  books  of  Plato.  (See  Tennemann's 
Lehren  der  Sokratiker  iiber  Unsterblichkeit,  page  22,  note.)  Plutarch 
uses  the  seventh  Letter  very  freely  in  his  life  of  Dion ;  quotes  twice  from 
the  fourth,  and  mentions  the  thirteenth.  (See  Langhorne's  Translation 
of  Plutarch,  vol.  vii..  Life  of  Dion,  pp.  144, 147,  149,  and  throughout.) 
Cousin  boldly  rejects  the  Letters,  although  he  includes  them  in  his 
translation  of  the  Dialogues.  As  in  many  other  cases  of  critical  diffi- 
culty, however,  he  cuts  the  knot  without  unloosing  it,  settling  the  ques- 
tion by  a  bold  French  generalization,  an  eclectic  leap.'  He  calls  them 
"  more  affected  than  profound,"  "  superficially  Alexandrine,"  etc.  (See 
Cousin's  Plato,  vol.  xiii.,  note  on  page  229.)  Boeckh  regards  the  sev- 
enth alone  as  genuine,  which  is  the  most  important  as  connected  with 
our  question. 


120          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

are  certainly  sustained  by  the  evidence  of  the  dia- 
logues themselves.  Most  of  these  are  plainly  in- 
tended to  be  guides  and  aids  in  the  acquirement  of 
precise  thinking,  and  the  attainment  of  the  dialectic 
method  of  philosophy.  They  are  admirable  as  hints 
and  suggestions  of  truth  which  they  do  not  state. 
They  shine  with  what  Heraclitus  would  call  a  humid 
light.  We  can  account  for  and  exp'lain  their  artful 
obscurity  only  by  keeping  in  view  the  Acadamy 
where  they  were  more  clearly  unfolded,  or  the  se- 
verity of  whose  lessons  they  were  perhaps  intended 
to  recall.  In  different  dialogues,  opinions  entirely 
contradictory  are  unfolded,  with  seemingly  equal 
honesty.  He  speaks  at  times,  too,  of  the  popular 
worship  in  terms  of  great  respect,  although  the 
whole  was  the  antipodes  of  his  own  belief.  Often 
we  are  led  through  the  most  intricate  avenues  of 
metaphysics  in  chase  of  a  sophism,  and  frequently, 
after  tiresome  discussions,  and  when  the  light  seems 
ready  to  break  upon  our  vision,  the  curtain  falls  and 
the  discussion  ends.  The  most  important  dialogues 
close  with  gorgeous  myths  drawn  either  from  tradi- 
tion or  the  sources  of  his  own  rich  mind,  and  through 
these,  as  through  a  highly-colored  transparency,  he 
throws  his  light  upon  the  imagination  of  the  read- 
er, impressing  by  symbols  upon  the  fancy  what  he 
refused  to  do  by  words  upon  the  reason.  And  no 
reader,  even  now,  can  study  his  works  without  con- 
fessing with  Ast,  that  "  the  peculiarity  of  Plato's 
compositions  is  that  he  has  no  peculiarity,"  that  they 
are  valuable  chiefly  as  exercises  in  mental  gymnas- 


PLATO'S  VIEWS   OF  IMMORTALITY.  121 

tics,  to  train  the  mind  to  habits  of  patient  thought, 
hinting  truths  which  they  will  not  tell,  leading  us 
up  ideal  heights  and  refusing  at  last  to  be  our 
guide,  but  pointing  the  way  to  higher  progress, 
making  us  feel  indeed  that  the  Platonism  which 
they  teach  is  inferior  to  the  Platonism  which  they 
inspire. 

Taking  this  view  of  the  Platonic  books,  the  only 
one,  we  believe,  capable  of  explaining  them,  it  is 
evident  that  mere  verbal  or  textual  criticism  cannot 
succeed  as  a  method  of  interpretation.  It  finds  it- 
self confused  at  once  with  a  thousand  embarass- 
ments.1  The  clew  to  the  Cretan  labyrinth,  or  the 
solution  of  the  Sphinx's  riddle,  were  easy  in  com- 
parison. The  only  proper  and  successful  method  is 
a  free,  liberal  treatment,  with  a  single  eye  to  Plato's 
method  and  the  general  spirit  of  each  piece.  Like  a 
tangled  skein  they  yield  easily  to  a  loose  and  patient 
handling,  but  if  forced  or  strained  at  all,  become 
knotted  into  an  inextricable  mass. 

Especially  must  we  bring  this  liberal  and  patient 
spirit  to  an  examination  of  Plato's  views  of  the  fu- 
ture state.  For  it  is  over  questions  connected  with 
the  nature  and  destiny  of  the  soul  that  the  greatest 
obscurity  is  thrown.  We  might  readily  suspect  it 
would  be  so.  Upon  these  points  he  was  brought  im- 

1  An  amusing  instance  of  the  beauties  of  this  method  may  be  seen  in 
Mr.  Norton's  expositions  of  Plato,  scattered  throughout  vol.  iii.  of  his 
"  Genuineness  of  the  Gospels."  The  final  cause  of  the  spirit  that  wrote 
the  preface  to  the  "  Statement  of  Reasons  "  certainly  was  not  to  be  the 
expounder  of  the  Greek  Transcendentalist. 


122          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY. 

mediately  in  contact  with  the  popular  religion,  and 
there  was  great  temptation  to  a  guarded  and  in- 
complete publication  of  his  opinions.  Besides,  Plato 
had  a  highly  poetic  mind.  He  had  determined  in 
early  youth,  previous  to  meeting  Socrates,  to  devote 
himself  to  poetry  ;  and  throughout  his  works  we  dis- 
cover a  marked  relish  for  allegories  and  myths,  to 
which  he  always  turned  with  eagerness,  not  only  as 
a  relief  from  the  dryness  of  abstract  discussion,  but 
as  a  medium  through  which  to  hint  ideas  which 
reason  could  not  grasp.  Nothing  was  better  fitted 
to  feed  this  poetic  turn  than  speculations  upon  the 
condition  and  fate  of  the  dead.  It  was  a  question 
removed  beyond  the  boundaries  of  science  ;  revela- 
tion had  not  dispelled  the  gloom  and  mystery  which 
lay  around  the  future  world ;  it  offered,  therefore,  a 
fit  field  for  the  revels  of  a  highly  imaginative  and 
spiritual  mind.  The  mythology  of  his  country  and 
of  the  East,  too,  was  rich  in  fables  illustrative  of 
the  future  destiny  of  souls ;  and  therefore  policy, 
together  with  the  severe  temper  of  his  scientific 
method,  compelled  him  to  adopt  that  allegorical 
and  legendary  dress  for  his  speculations,  which  his 
poetic  genius  so  dearly  loved  to  weave.  The  Pla- 
tonic myths  and  stories  are  often  contradictory  with 
each  other,  embracing  materials  which  it  is  impos- 
sible to  harmonize  by  verbal  criticism,  and  thus  our 
only  method  is  a  poetic  abandonment  of  mind  to  the 
influence  of  the  pictures,  rather  than  a  microscopic 
analysis  of  words.  No  two  writers  whom  we  have 
ever  consulted  agree  in  their  abstract  of  Plato's 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY.          123 

views  of  immortality ;  scarcely  can  one  be  found 
who  is  entirely  consistent  with  himself.  The  trouble 
has  generally  arisen  from  a  false  or  too  rash  method 
of  interpretation.  It  is  a  hopeless  task  to  extort 
the  meaning  of  poetry  by  logic.  "  Spiritual  things 
are  spiritually  discerned." 

In  passing,  then,  to  a  direct  consideration  of  his 
views  concerning  the  soul  and  its  destiny,  we  must 
remark  that  the  writings  of  Plato  form  an  epoch  in 
ancient  philosophy.  Socrates  impressed  a  new  ten- 
dency on  speculation.  He  brought  into  use  the 
psychological  method.  Before  his  time  the  philoso- 
phy of  Greece  was  conversant  with  little  else  than 
physical  inquiries,  explanations  of  the  origin  of  the 
universe.  It  was  entirely  ontological.  Speculation 
seems  to  have  been  lawless,  busying  itself  with  the 
mysteries  connected  with  the  genesis  of  things,  un- 
restrained and  undirected  by  any  rules  of  scientific 
thought.  Philosophers  were  mostly  physicists;  no 
base  had  be'en  laid  for  a  moral  system  ;  science  was 
dissipated  into  theories  and  hypotheses,  based,  how- 
ever, on  no  facts,  at  the  mercy  of  the  next  thinker, 
and  held  together  only  by  the  speculative  ingenuity 
of  the  author's  brain/  Socrates  swept  it  all  away. 
He  saw  that  it  was  aimless,  profitless,  and  barren. 
He  brought  back  philosophy  to  its  true  starting- 
point, —  the  human  soul.  His  motto,  his  method, 
the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  his  system  was  —  "  Know 
thyself."  He  made  psychology  the  portal  to  the 
temple  of  science,  and  thus  gave  to  speculation  a 
moral  aim.  Socrates  left  no  works.  His  greatest 


124          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

legacy  to  the  world  was  Plato's  mind.  The  scholar 
was  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  master's  method, 
and  in  his  Works  for  the  first  time  do  we  find  the 
true  canons  of  philosophy  observed,  and  a  rigorous 
moral  system  raised  upon  the  results  of  psychologi- 
cal analysis,  and  induction  from  the  facts  of  con- 
sciousness and  experience. 

At  first  sight,  we  are  struck  with  the  spiritual 
character  of  Plato's  system.  He  has  no  compro- 
mise, no  sympathy  with  materialistic  views.  With 
him  man  was  a  living  soul,  the  body  merely  an 
organ,  instrument,  and  slave.  The  natural  order  of 
things,  reversed  in  most  of  the  schools  of  Grecian 
speculation,  was  restored  by  him.  Spiritual  interests 
in  his  philosophy  are  always  supreme.  So  far  from 
the  spirit  being  dependent  on  material  organization, 
it  existed  before  the  body,  sustains  the  body,  and  is 
in  its  very  essence  immortal,  indestructible.  That 
Plato  held  to  the  prior  existence  of  the  spirit,  no 
student  of  his  philosophy  can  doubt.  It  is  a  funda- 
mental point  of  his  moral  system.  But  when  we 
go  beyond  this  fact,  and  seek  to  define  his  view  of 
its  former  state,  and  the  manner  of  its  passage  into 
an  earthly  form,  we  are  embarrassed  by  a  crowd  of 
contradictory  statements  entirely  insoluble.  "  To 
know  the  soul  in  itself,"  said  he,  "  requires  a  divine 
wisdom,  and  dissertations  without  end."  Plato 
seems  clearly  to  have  understood  and  recognized  the 
boundary  line  between  science  and  speculation.  His 
mind  was  poetic  but  not  mystic.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  we  see  proof  of  this  in  his  treatment  of  the 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY.  125 

question  of  preexistence ;  and  it  is  on  this  ground 
alone,  we  believe,  that  the  contradictions,  so  perplex- 
ing to  most  commentators,  can  be  explained.  In 
establishing  the  fact  of  preexistence  and  the  superior- 
ity of  the  soul,  his  method  is  scientific.  He  draws 
his  argument  from  the  facts  of  our  mental  experience 
and  the  laws  of  bodily  organization.  The  sources 
of  this  proof  are  found  in  the  Phaedon  and  the  Meno. 
By  an  examination  of  the  principal  ideas  of  the 
mind,  such  as  the  true,  the  good,  the  beautiful,  equal- 
ity, etc.,  Plato  discovered  that  their  characteristics 
are  such  as  to  forbid  the  supposition  of  sensual  origin.  ' 
They  cannot  be  traced  to  sensible  impressions  ;  they 
are  beyond  the  reach  of  our  bodily  organs.  The 
sight  of  material  things  awakens  them  immediately 
in  the  mind ;  and  therefore,  since  their  origin  is  not 
in  this  state  of  existence,  they  come  into  conscious- 
ness by  reminiscence,  and  must  have  been  acquired 
in  some  former  state,  and  brought  with  us  here  as 
part  of  our  mental  furniture.1  The  ideas  of  science 
and  duty  also,  both  demanding  freedom  of  the  spirit 
from  the  ties  of  sense  and  matter,  imply  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  soul,  and  hence  its  priority.2  The 
evils  of  life,  moreover,  spring  from  too  intimate 

1  Vol.  i.,  Phsadon,  pp.  219T231.  Vol.  vi.  Meno,  pp.  174-191.  In  study- 
ing the  genesis  and  comparative  anatomy  of  philosophical  schools,  rela- 
tionships and  affinities  quite  unsuspected  may  be  brought  to  light.  Thus 
it  was  the  existence  in  the  mind  of  certain  and  super-sensuous  knowl- 
edge which  led  Plato  into  his  theory  of  reminiscence  and  ideal  realism' 
Kant  into  his  discovery  of  the  categories  of  pure  reason,  and  his  system 
of  subjective  scepticism,  and  Cousin  into  the  doctrine  of  impersonal  rea- 
son, and  the  possibility  of  arriving  at  absolute,  ontological  science. 

*  Vol.  i.,  Phaedon,  pp.  200,  205. 


126  PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

union  of  the  soul  with  flesh,  and  moral  order 
is  attained  only  as  the  soul  acquires  and  feels  its 
native  superiority  to  earthly  bonds.1  The  soul  also 
is  the  principle  and  source  of  motion,  and  therefore 
prior  to  material  organization,  which  is  merely  the 
channel  and  instrument  of  motion.  The  body 
dissolves  at  death ;  but  dissolution  is  possible  only 
with  the  composite.  The  soul  is  formless,  substan- 
tive, and  simple,  hence  indissoluble  and  superior  to 
all  organization.2  Neither  can  it  be  the  harmony  of 
the  body,  a  result  of  the  arrangement  of  its  forces, 
dependent  on  matter  like  the  music  of  a  lyre  upon 
strings.  A  harmony  has  no  substantive  essence ;  it 
exists  only  in  the  conditioning  elements ;  —  while 
the  soul  is  conscious  of  substantive  existence,  can 
distinguish  and  separate  itself  from  bodily  elements 
and  make  war  upon  them.3  Hence  it  is  a  prior 
individual  unity. 

All  these  arguments  are  based  on  psychology.  The 
logic  is  wretched,  but  the  method  true.  The  fact  of 
preexistence,  then,  we  believe  to  be  a  firmly  estab- 
lished element  of  Platonism.4  But  beyond  this 
mere  fact,  to  the  manner  of  preexistence,  and  the 
worldly  origin  of  souls,  induction  could  not  reach ; 


1  Vol.  i.,  Phsedon,  pp.  209,  210.      2  Ibid,  283-300.      s  Ibid.  263-271. 

*  Coleridge  (Biog.  Lit.  ch.  xxii.'),  in  a  note  to  Wordsworth's  beautiful 
"  Ode  on  Immortality,"  referring  to  the  doctrine  of  preexistence,  hinted 
*there,  remarks,  that  a  competent  reader  "  will  be  as  little  disposed  to 
charge  Mr.  Wordsworth  with  believing  the  Plantonic  preexistence,  in 
the  ordinary  interpretation  of  the  words,  as  I  am  to  believe  that  Plato 
himself  ever  meant  or  taught  it."  If  this  refers  to  the  mythic  descrip- 
tion of  the  soul's  former  condition,  the  remark  is  just;  if  applied,  how- 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.  127 

then  Plato  designedly  abandons  himself  to  speculation 
and  hypothesis,  sporting  freely  in  a  poetic  element, 
careless,  of  course,  about  the  consistency  and  har- 
mony of  his  fanciful  plays.  Accordingly,  in  the 
gorgeous  imagery  of  the  Phaedrus,  he  shows  us  the 
cars  of  the  original  souls,  moving  in  the  train  of  the 
Deity,  and  borne  around  the  heaven  in  contemplation 
of  ideas.  In  the  Timaeus  we  see  the  elements  of 
human  souls,  at  the  command  of  Deity,  mixed  by 
demi-gods  from  the  remnant  of  the  first  creations, 
and  scattered  upon  the  stars,  where  they  first  be- 
come acquainted  with  ideas  ;  while,  in  the  Philebus, 
the  souls  are  emanations  from  the  great  world-soul, 
the  first  creation  of  the  Almighty.1  Plato  founds, 
however,  no  important  doetrine  on  the  tenet  of  pre- 
existence,  and  in  all  the  poetic  passages  as  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  soul's  former  state,  he  warns 
the  reader  against  receiving  them  as  truths  or  as 
anything  more  than  fanciful  guesses  and  badinage.2 

ever,  to  the  fact  of  the  priority  of  spirit  to  bodily  forms,  the  scepticism 
is  too  sweeping  and  indiscriminate. 

Tenuemann,  (System  der  Platonischen  Philosophic,  vol.  iii.,  p.  109,) 
makes  a  distinction  between  the  hypothetical  and  mythical  in  Platonism, 
which,  he  says,  must  not  be  overlooked.  Thus,  "  when  Plato  admits 
the  preexistence  of  the  soul,  on  account  of  super-sensuous  knowledge, 
it  is  an  hypothesis ;  when,  however,  he  seeks  to  represent  the  condition 
of  preexisting  souls,  their  dwelling  in  the  stars,  and  their  travels  through 
various  bodily  forms  it  is  a  myth."  This  hypothetical  hypothesis  does 
not,  we  think,  explain  A\\  the  allusions  to  preexistence  in  Plato  so  well 
as  our  own  theory,  that  the  fact  is  scientific,  the  details  mythical. 

1  We  have  made  no  allusion  to  the  Tenth  Book  of  the  Laws,  because 
there,  evidently,  the  passages  on  preexistence  refer  to  the  general  pri- 
ority of  mind  to  matter,  and  not  to  individual  preexistence. 

»  Vol.  vi.,  Phsedrus,  p.  96;  vol.  xii.,  Timaeus,  pp.  118,  203- 


128          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

Holding  fast  to  the  idea  of  preexistence,  as  a  fact  of 
his  philosophy,  a  wise  criticism,  instead  of  trying  to 
reconcile  the  irreconcilable,  will  transfer  the  details 
of  the  soul's  former  state  from  the  region  of  scien- 
tific to  that  of  poetic  Platonism. 

Passing  from  a  consideration  of  the  nature,  to  the 
duration,  of  the  soul,  we  may  say,  that  Plato  un- 
doubtedly had  firm  and  constant  faith  in  immortal- 
ity. It  was  with  him,  not  merely  a  matter  of  specula- 
tion, but  .of  science.  The  same  arguments  which 
decided  his  faith  in  a  preexistent  state,  were  con- 
clusive in  favor  of  the  soul's  independence  and 
enduring  life.  We  read  him  with  perfect  confidence. 
There  is  no  hesitation,  no  wavering,  no  insecurity  of 
faith  betrayed  in  any  of  his  dialogues,  where  men- 
tion is  made  of  immortality.  The  idea  is  involved 
and  connected  by  numberless  nerves  and  fibres,  with 
the  whole  scientific  structure  of  his  philosophy. 
For  aught  in  his  writings  to  the  contrary,  it  was  as 
much  a  matter  of  certainty,  as  his  belief  in  God,  or 
his  confidence  in  present  existence.  To  him  belongs 
the  honor  of  first  placing  the  idea  of  immortality  on 
a  rational  basis ;  to  him  alone,  throughout  the  ranks 
of  ancient  philosophers,  is  due  the  praise  of  holding 
to  it  firmly,  as  the  only  solution  to  the  mysteries  of 
our  moral  nature,  and  the  ever-present  sanction  of 
the  moral  law.  It  is  a  difficult  and^quite  unwelcome 
task  to  proceed  to  a  critical  analysis  of  his  views, 
concerning  the  future  condition  and  destiny  of  the 
soul.  Could  we  collect  and  arrange  the  passages 
that  refer  to  the  subject, — which  would  be  the  proper 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY.          129 

•t 

method  for  the  treatment  of  most  authors,  —  and 
thus  present  the  tenor  of  his  views  in  his  own  lan- 
guage, we  might  hope  for  some  success,  notwith- 
standing the  mass  of  materials  it  would  be  necessary 
to  sift.  But  .this  is  impossible.  There  is  no  outward 
unity  or  consistency  in  his  statements.  It  would  be 
comparatively  easy  to  work  the  vast  Platonic  mine, 
and  disclose  to  general  view  its  rich  veins  of  moral 
speculation,  if  they  ran  in  any  order.  But  a  strange 
caprice  governs  their  development.  They  break  off 
so  suddenly,  and  branch  out  in  so  many  directions, 
and  with  such  lawless  irregularity,  that  there  seems 
to  be  no  possibility  of  tracing  unity  or  plan.  The 
impressions  left  upon  the  reader's  mind,  by  a  first 
and  hasty  reading  of  Plato's  various  passages  on 
future  life,  are  extremely  confused  and  chaotic.  Not 
only  are  we  perplexed  by  different  treatments  and 
developments  of  one  fundamental  conception,  as  in 
the  case  of  preexistence,  but  different  and  entirely 
hostile  modes  of  future  life,  are  posited  with  equal 
freedom  and  seeming  indifference.  In  attempting  a 
solution,  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  it  is  this  part 
of  his  philosophy,  probably,  which  Plato  treated 
with  the  greatest  artistic  liberty  in  his  writings,  re- 
serving a  clear  and  consistent  development  for  the 
retirement  of  his  school.  Although  the  same  dis- 
tinction between  the  scientific  and  poetic,  to  which 
we  referred  in  the  remarks  on  preexistence,  may  be 
equally  applicable  here,  still  there  are  m^ny  incon- 
sistencies and  troublesome  questions  concerning 
Plato's  conception  of  the  soul's  final  destiny,  which 


130          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

we  think,  a  patient  examination  can  reconcile  and 
solve.  At  any  rate,  we  are  confident  that  it  is  possi- 
ble to  establish  a  negative,  to  show  what  he  did  not 
believe,  and  thus  to  rescue  his  system  from  being 
implicated  with  doctrines  sometimes  imputed  to  it, 
but  for  which  it  is  not  at  all  responsible. 

The  first  difficulty  that  presses  on  us,  relates  to 
the  tenet  of  metempsychosis,  or  transmigration  of 
souls.  From  many  passages  in  his  works,  it  would 
seem,  that  he  held  to  this  theory  as  the  mode  and 
form  of  eternal  existence.  The  dialogues  which 
contain  allusions  to,  or  statements  of,  the  doctrine 
of  transmigration,  are  the  Phaedrus,  Meno,  Tim- 
asus,  Phsedon,  the  Tenth  Book  of  the  Republic, 
and  the  Tenth  Book  of  the  Laws.  In  the  Phaedon, 
which  contains  the  last  conversation  of  Socrates 
with  his  friends  just  prior  to  his  decease,  and  where 
the  subject  is,  the  soul  and  its  destiny,  we  find  it 
alluded  to  in  the  following  manner.  After  having 
argued  for  the  independent  nature  of  the  soul, 
from  conscience,  the  idea  of  science,  etc.,  Socrates, 
in  passing  to  speak  of  its  eternal  duration,  com- 
mences1 by  referring  to  "  the  very  ancient  opinion, 
that  souls  in  quitting  this  world  go  to  the  unseen 
state,  and  thence  again  come  back  to  life  after  the 
passage  of  death."  This  gives  rise  to  a  discussion 
upon  the  law  of  contraries ;  all  tilings  spring  from 
their  opposites,  as  the  colder  from  the  warmer, 
smaller  from  greater,  quicker  from  slower,  night 
from  day,  etc.  This  ceaseless  flow  and  change  is 

1  Vol.  i.,  Phaedon,  p.  213. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY.          131 

the  law  of  nature.  Things  are  continually  return- 
ing into,  and  reissuing  from,  their  opposites.  Cir- 
culus  arterni  mottis.  Existence  is  an  active  circle, 
whose  extremities  perpetually  return  upon  them- 
selves, and  thus,  in  order  to  maintain  the  stability 
of  this  universal  order,  death  also  must  give  place 
to  life,  birth  must  be  the  compensating  opposite  to 
dissolution,  else  all  being  would  finally  become  stag- 
nant and  dead.1  The  natural  complement  and 
climax  of  this  argument,  of  course,  should  be,  that 
the  number  of  souls  is  limited,  that  the  series  of 
earthly  lives  is  continually  refreshed  by  the  spirits 
of  the  departed,  and  that  natural  birth  in  this 
world  is  the  immediate  return  of  the  spirit  to  ex- 
istence. But  Socrates,  as  if  conscious  of  the  ten- 
dency of  this  theory,  and  recoiling  from  its  logical 
results,  artfully  breaks  the  discussion,  and  passes 
immediately  to  the  argument  for  the  soul's  inde- 
pendence from  reminiscence,  and  after  settling  that, 
resumes2  the  consideration  of  its  future  condition. 
But  here  the  demands  of  his  rigid  law  of  contraries 
are  forgotten.  The  theory  of  metempsychosis  has 
itself  experienced  a  metamorphosis  from  a  scientific 
necessity  as  before,  to  a  moral  condition  of  punish- 
ment. "  Thev  soul,  which  is  immaterial,  goes  to  an 
abode  like  itself,  pure,  excellent,  and  immaterial.  If 
it  pass  pure,  without  dragging  with  it  anything  cor- 
poreal, it  returns  to  the  divine,  immortal,  and  wise, 
and  there  is  happy,  delivered  from  error,  folly, 
fears,  dissolute  love,  and  all  other  human  evils ;  as 

1  Vol.  i.,  Phssdon,  p.  218.  1  Ibid.  p.  239. 


132          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

they  say  of  the  initiated,  it  passes,  truly,  eternity 
with  the  gods.  But  if  souls  withdraw  from  the 
body  corrupted  and  impure,  loaded  with  the  bonds 
of  the  material  envelope,  they  fall,  and,  dragged 
anew  towards  the  visible  world  by  terror  of  the  im- 
material ?  and  of  that  world  without  light  which  is 
called  hell,  go  wandering,  as  they  say,  among  mon- 
uments and  tombs  as  a  punishment  for  their  first 
wicked  life,  until  the  natural  appetite  of  the  cor- 
poreal mass  which  follows  them,  leads  them  back 
into  a  body,  and  then  they  reenter,  probably,  into 
the  same  habits  which  made  the  occupation  of  their 
first  existence."1  Those  who  were  abandoned  to 
intemperance  and  sensual  excess  go  into  the  bodies 
of  asses  and  like  animals ;  those  who  loved  injustice 
and  tyranny,  into  wolves  and  hawks ;  peaceable, 
mild  souls,  undisciplined  by  philosophy,  pass  into 
social  and  peaceful  animals,  as  bees,  wasps,  and  ants, 
or  perhaps  return  to  human  bodies  and  form  good 
men.  But  to  attain  the  rank  of  the  gods  is  per- 
mitted only  to  the  philosopher. 

A  careless  reader,  unacquainted  with  Plato's 
method,  and  the  license  of  his  art,  would  at  once 
conclude  from  the  above-cited  passage,  probably, 
that  the  tenet  of  metempsychosis  formed  an  element 
of  his  creed.  In  fact,  we  have  given  the  most  per- 
plexing passage  first.  Generally  his  allusions  to 
transmigration  are  veiled  in  mythic  dress,  and  form 
a  rich  embroidery,  an  ornamental  fringe  to  his  ab- 
struser  speculations,  while  here  they  seem  to  shoot 

l  Vol.  i.,  Phaedon,  substance  of,  pp.  239-248. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMOETALITY.          133 

like  a  golden  thread  across  his  logic.     A  thorough 
study  of  his  works,  however,  is  fatal  to  the  theory. 
Not  only,  as  in  the  very  instance  of  the  discussion  in 
the  Phaedon,  does  .he  artfully  elude  an  implication 
of  his  argument  with  the  natural  consequences  of 
transmigration,  but  he  is  so  entirely  inconsistent 
with  himself  in  his  different  modes  of  representing 
it,  as  to  force  upon  us  the  conclusion  that  he  used 
it  for  an  artistic  embellishment,  borrowed  from  his 
favorite,  Pythagoras,  and  as  a  convenient  vehicle 
through  which  to  impress  upon  the  imagination  the 
moral  results  of  sin.     A  careful  examination  and 
comparison  of  the  passages  where  the  theory  is  in- 
troduced, we  are  confident,  will   substantiate  our 
position.     In  the  Phsedon,  as  we  have  seen,  no  no- 
tice is  taken  and  no  solution  offered  of  the  question, 
how  the  souls  are  united  at  birth  or  reunited  at 
death  with  an  earthly  form.     In  the  Phaedrus,  the 
most  poetic  unscientific,  as  well  as  one  of  the  most 
gorgeous  and  fascinating  of  the  Platonic  dialogues, 
the  first  appearance  of  the  spirit  in  a  body  is  as- 
cribed to  sin.     The  soul  in  its  preexistent,  empy- 
rean flight,  becomes  heavy  and  dull  through  forget- 
fulness  'or  vice,  loses  its  wings   and   falls  to   the 
earth.     But  it  is  forbidden  to  animate  the  body  of 
any  beast  at  the  first  generation.     The  fallen  spirits 
consist  of  nine  degrees,  and  make  up,  accordingly, 
nine  different  ranks  of  human  character ;  the  first 
and   purest  rank  entering  philosophers   and   men 
whose  lives  are  consecrated  to  Love,  Beauty,  and 
the  Muses.     The  others  are  arranged  in  the  follow- 


134          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY. 

ing  order: — just  kings  and  warriors,  statesmen, 
athletes  and  doctors,  priests,  poets  and  artists,  ar- 
tisans, sophists  and  demagogues,  and,  lastly,  tyrants. 
After  death,  the  souls  return  to  the  other  world  for 
judgment,  and,  according  to  their  improvement  of 
the  first  probationary  state,  are  punished  or  reward- 
ed for  a  thousand  years.  At  the  expiration  of  this 
period,  they  make  choice  of  a  new  earthly  exist- 
ence :  each  being  free  to  select  the  condition  which 
it  prefers,  whether  of  beast  or  man.  And  only 
through  a  circuit  of  ten  lives  and  a  disciplinary  and 
retributory  punishment  of  ten  thousand  years,  can 
the  souls  regain  their  heavenly  state ;  except  the 
philosopher,  who,  after  three  successive  virtuous 
lives,  and  a  discipline  of  three  thousand  years,  may 
recover  his  wings  and  resume  his  flight.1 

All  other  reasons  set  aside,  this  passage  would  be 
valueless  as  a  sober,  trustworthy  statement  of  Plato's 
belief,  from  the  fact  that  it  occurs  in  a  discourse 
attributed  to  Stesichorus,  a  celebrated  author  of 
lyrico-epic  poems,  which  Socrates  recites  to  Phaedrus 
while  seated  upon  the  banks  of  the  Ilyssus,  and 
yielding  to  the  luxury  of  dreamy  musing  and  con- 
templation. In  accordance  with  Plato's  mimetic 
art,  the  ideas  and  form  of  the  address  are  suited  to 
the  imaginary  author,  philosophic  severity  being 
sacrificed  to  poetic  license  and  consistency  of  char- 
acter. No  reader  of  Plato  can  fail  to  remark,  be- 
sides, the  discrepancy  between  this  statement  as  it 
respects  the  fate  of  the  philosopher,  and  his  usual 

1  Vol.  vi.,  PhsBdrus,  pp.  53,  54. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          135 

dogmatic  positions  on  that  point.  Always  in  his 
dialogues  and  myths  he  allots  to  the  lover  of  wis- 
dom an  immediate  return  to  the  life  of  the  gods ; 
while  here  he  subjects  him  to  a  probation  of  three 
worldly  existences  and  a  discipline  of  three  thou- 
sand years.  The  nine  lives  and  return  to  purity 
after  the  tenth  cycle  of  punishment,  shows  us  that 
he  is  using  a  Pythagorean  doctrine,  under  their 
mystical  veil  of  numbers.  Almost  all  commenta- 
tors are  agreed  that  this  is  among  the  earliest,  if 
not  the  very  first  of  Plato's  written  works,  marked 
by  the  luxuriance  of  youthful  fancy,  betraying 
throughout  a  lack  of  art  in  subordinating  properly 
the  poetic  and  mythical  to  the  philosophical  and 
scientific  elements,  and  so  ill  balanced  that  the  au- 
thor found  it  necessary  to  warn  the  reader  against 
an  undue  fascination  with  its  form,  with  the  twice- 
repeated  confession  that  it  is  a  poetic  myth,  "  a 
kind  of  mythologic  hymn  to  Love  who  presides  over 
beauty."  1 

The  work  most  commonly  cited  to  substantiate 
the  theory  of  metempsychosis  is  the  Timaeus,  a 
composition  which  pretends  to  give  a  solution  of 
the  origin  of  things,,  and  to  embody  Plato's  specu- 
lations upon  nature  and  the  theory  of  the  world. 
Here,  too,  the  details  of  the  statement  are  entirely 
different.  After  the  creation  of  higher  orders,  the 
souls  of  men  were  mixed  by  demi-gods  from  ele- 
ments furnished  by  the  Almighty,  and  were  then 
divided  among  the  stars,  one  great  soul  to  each 

i  Vol.  vi.,  Pluedrus,  pp.  96, 189. 


136          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY. 

star.  Before  the  first  birth,  which  is  the  same  to 
all,  the  souls  are  made  to  mount  upon  a  chariot, 
"  that  they  may  see  the  nature  of  the  universe,  and 
observe  its  inevitable  decrees."  After  death,  if  the 
soul  has  lived  justly,  it  returns  immediately  to  its 
proper  star.  If  it  sin,  it  is  changed  into  a  woman 
at  the  second  birth,  and  if  then  it  does  not  improve, 
it  passes  through  a  lower  round  of  change,  corre- 
sponding to  its  vices,  until  by  discipline  it  becomes 
worthy  to  recover  its  first  and  excellent  condition. 
The  creation  of  lower  animals  is  ascribed  to  this 
degradation  of  human  souls  by  sin ;  each  degree  of 
evil  and  debasement  manifesting  itself  in  the  crea-' 
tion  of  a  new  and  appropriate  bodily  form.  The 
apparent  freedom  of  the  passages  in  the  Timaeus 
from  any  mythic  mixture,  and  the  dogmatic  form 
in  which  the  doctrine  is  stated,  have  caused  greater 
stress  to  be  laid  upon  it  as  authority  for  Plato's 
faith  in  transmigration.  Too  much  credit  has  been 
given,  however,  to  the  Timaeus  as  an  exposition  of 
Plato's  sober  views.  The  whole  structure  and  form 
of  the  work  remove  it  from  the  category  of  his 
severe  scientific  productions.  It  is  not  cast  in  the 
dialogistic  mould  ;  the  dialectic  method  employed 
in  his  other  great  works,  such  as  the  Thaeetetus, 
Philebus,  Gorgias,  Phaedon,  and  Republic,  and 
which  Plato  declares  to  be  the  only  medium  for 
conveying  truth,  is  abandoned.  Moreover,  his  usual 
mouthpiece,  Socrates,  is  thrown  aiside  ;  and  the 
substance  of  the  work  is  given  as  a  long  recital 
upon  nature,  from  Timaeus,  a  Locrian,  and  a  cele- 


PLATO'S  VIEWS   OF  IMMORTALITY.  137 

brated  teacher  of  the  Pythagorean  school.  Consist- 
ently with  Plato's  usual  aim  after  dramatic  propri- 
ety, therefore,  we  discover  in  it  much  of  a  peculiar- 
ly Pythagorean  cast,  and  accordingly,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  Phaedrus,  we  find  that  Plato  introduces  a 
caveat,  lest  he  be  held  responsible  for  the  literal 
statement  of  opinions,  confessing  that  all  which  he 
has  said  is  a  philosophical  recreation,  a  wise  and 
moderate  amusement  for  the  mind  when  it  lays 
aside  the  study  of  what  is  eternal.1  That  the  Timae- 
us  discloses  many  physiological  views  which  Plato 
really  held,  we  have  no  doubt ;  but  its  transcenden- 
tal speculations  bear  all  the  incidental  and  positive 
testimony  that  can  be  given  to  prove  that  they  were 
mere  philosophic  myths  and  jeux  d'esprit.2 

1  Vol.  xiL,  Timaeus,  pp.  118, 174,  203.    The  passages  in  this  dialogue 
which  refer  to  metempsychosis  may  be  found  pp.  137-141,  and  242,  243. 

2  Mr.  Norton  (Evidences  of  the  Gospels,  vol.  iii.,  p.  104)  calls  the 
Timseus  a  mere  work  of  imagination.    Tennemann,  noticing  the  incon- 
sistency between  the  Phaedrus  and  the  Timaeus  relative  to  future  life, 
with  a  short-sightedness  unusual  in  him,  places  greater  stress  on  the 
representations  in  the  Timaeus  as  a  riper  and  later  book.    The  Timseus, 
it  is  true,  is  a  later  book,  but  lateness  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  verac- 
ity of  poetry.    Afterwards,  however,  he  refers  to  the  Timasus  for  proof 
that  Plato  held  his  speculations  to  be  mere  guesses  upon  questions  re- 
moved from  knowledge.    ("  System  der  Platonischen  Philosophic,"  vol. 
iii.,  pp.  96,  97.)    And  further  on  (p.  124),  speaking  of  Plato's  statement 
that  the  soul  at  its  second  birth  enters  a  female  form,  he  adduces  evi- 
dence from  the  Republic,  where  Plato  allows  an  equal  dignity  to  the 
male  and  female  natures,  for  proof  that  he  did  not  affirm  the  doctrine 
"  in  full  earnest."    Again,  referring  to  the  return  of  the  wicked  into  the 
souls  of  beasts,  Tennemann  contends  that  Plato  "  held  it  not  as  rigid 
truth,  but  as  a  feasible  mode  of  representing  the  moral  condition  of  the 
soul  after  death."    (See  his  "  Lehren  der  Sokratiker  iiber  Uusterbh'ch- 
keit,"  p.  478.) 

Stallbaum,  a  German  editor  of  Plato's  works,  and  who  has  been 


138  PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY. 

In  the  tenth  book  of  the  Republic,  we  have  still 
another. poetic  statement  of  the  theory  of  transmi- 
gration, clothed  in  all  the  luxuriant  drapery  of 
Plato's  inimitable  art.  The  details  differ  from  those 
of  all  the  rest.  According  to  the  recital,  the  infor- 
mation concerning  the  future  state  was  communi- 
cated by  Er,  an  Armenian,  who  had  been  slain  in 
battle,  but  whose  corpse  was  preserved  from  the 
funeral  pile  until  the  twelfth  day  after  his  decease. 
"When  all  preparations  had  been  completed  for  his 
obsequies  he  suddenly  revived,  and  related  what 

called  "  one  of  the  greatest  living  scholars  in  the  Platonic  writings,"  in 
criticising  the  mythical  passages  relating  to  metempsychosis  scattered 
throughout  the  Phsedus,  Phaedon,  Timseus,  and  Republic,  contends  that 
a  serious  study  of  them  all  easily  demonstrates  that  they  are  mere  plays 
of  fancy ;  to  use  his  own  words,  — "  Philosophum  in  hoc  argumento 
tractando  ingenii  lusui  nonnihil  indulsisse,  ut  in  re  quse  mentis  humanse 
intelligentiam  superaret."  (See  Cousin's  Plato,  vol.  xii.,  p.  345,  note.) 
Cousin  himself  is  not  committed  to  any  decisive  opinion.  His  criti- 
cism is  remarkably  eclectic,  or  rather  synchretic.  He  touches  both 
sides.  In  his  preface  to  the  Phsedon,  he  hints  the  idea  that  the  tenet 
of  metempsychosis  may  be  only  a  symbolic  envelope  for  the  dogma  of 
the  unity  and  incorruptibility  of  intellectual  substance,  (vol.  i.,  p.  181.) 
This  opinion  is  still  more  decidedly  advanced  in  the  notes  to  the  M«no, 
(vol.  vi.,  p.  480.)  In  the  notes  to  the  Timseus,  however,  he  rejects  Stall- 
baum's  view,  and  inclines  to  the  opinion  that  it  is  neither  a  jeu  (fesprit, 
nor  a  doctrine  Plato  would  be  willing  to  indorse,  but  "  a  specious  noted 
opinion,  more  or  less  true,  borrowed  from  his  favorite  Pythagoras,  and 
constituting  his  own  mythology  through  which  he  addresses  the  imag- 
ination and  the  soul,  after  having  arrived  at  the  limits  which  separate 
the  certain  from  the  probable,  and  having  exhausted  rational  demon- 
stration," (vol.  xii.,  p.  346.)  It  is  hard  to  define  the  difference  between 
this  view  and  Stallbaum's;  and  at  the  close  of  his  notes  on  the  Timseus, 
Cousin  protests  against  the  tenet  of  animal  transmigration  in  good  ear- 
nest, calling  it  mal  a  propos,  and  declaring  that  "  we  could  very  well 
have  spared  an  ornament  which  degrades  instead  of  elevating  the  maj- 
esty of  Plato's  ideas  of  the  animal  kingdom  and  the  universe." 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          139 

had  been  revealed  to  him  in  the  other  world.  We 
have  not  room  to  present  even  an  outline  of  this 
statement,  the  particulars  of  which  would  fill  sev- 
eral pages.  The  substance,  however,  is,  —  that  im- 
mediately after  death,  all  souls,  according  to  their 
characters,  are  despatched  by  different  routs  to  the 
abodes  of  the  happy  or  the  wicked.  In  these  dwell- 
ings they  remain  a  thousand  years,  each  soul  receiv- 
ing tenfold  reward  or  punishment  for  the  deeds  of 
its  earthly  life,  and,  at  the  end  of  this  period,  the 
spirits  are  permitted  to  make  choice  of  a  new  exist- 
ence. In  working  out  this  gorgeous  picture,  one 
of  the  finest  gems  of  imagination  which  literature 
contains,  and  upon  which  Plato  seems  to  have  be- 
stowed more  artistic  labor  than  on  any  other,  he 
seems  not  to  have  restrained  his  fancy  at  all  by  the 
desire  to  be  consistent  with  his  other  statements, 
but  rather  to  have  constructed  it  without  reference 
to  them  and  from  new  resources.  Accordingly,  no 
moral  distinction  is  made  between  the  value  of  an- 
imal and  human  forms,  as  in  the  Phaedon  and  Ti- 
maeus,  and  they  are  selected  not  in  obedience  to 
spiritual  necessity,  but  from  considerations  of  con- 
venience, or  at  the  suggestion  of  arbitrary  whims. 
The  spirit  of  Orpheus  selected  the  soul  of  a  swan, 
from  his  hatred  of  women  who  had  once  caused  his 
death,  not  wishing  to  be  dependent  again  upon  that 
sex  for  birth.  Ajax,  son  of  Telamon,  disgusted 
with  human  life,  and  remembering  the  judgment 
which  deprived  him  of  the  arms  of  Achilles,  took 
the  nature  of  a  lion.  Agamemnon,  too,  averse  to 


140          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMOETALITY. 

the  human  race  because  of  his  past  misfortunes, 
selected  the  condition  of  the  eagle.  Ulysses,  cured 
of  ambition  by  the  memory  of  his  severe  reverses, 
chose  the  tranquil  lot  of  a  private  man,  which  the 
other  souls  had  disdainfully  refused ;  while  Ther- 
sites,  very  properly,  concluded  to  reanimate  the 
body  of  a  monkey.1  No  difference  is  posited  be- 
tween male  and  female  as  in  the  Timaeus,  for  sexes 
are  changed  at  will.  Atalanta  had  a  strong  desire 
to  become  an  athlete,  and  Epeus,  son  of  Panopeus, 
returned  into  the  lot  of  an  industrious  woman. 
No  peculiar  fate  is  reserved  for  the  philosopher,  and 
not  a  hint  is  dropped  relative  to  the  point  whether 
this  return  is  part  of  a  long  system  of  purification, 
as  in  the  Phsedrus,  or  whether  it  is  the  general  law 
of  earthly  existence  and  reproduction.2  The  beau- 
ty with  which  the  whole  myth  is  wrought  out  can- 
not be  surpassed;  art  everywhere  shines  through 
the  story,  and  we  can  imagine  no  more  thorough 
cure  for  a  tendency  to  believe  that  Plato  really 
held  the  doctrine  of  metempsychosis,  than  a  study 
of  this  fiction  in  a  proper  attitude  of  mind.8 


1  Vol.  x.,  Republic,  Book  Tenth,  pp.  291,  292. 

8  Cousin  thinks,  that  the  substance  of  the  whole  fable  is  Oriental, 
embellished,  but  not  originated,  by  Plato,  (vol.  x.,  p.  377.) 

3  The  mythic  passages  in  the  Meno  hardly  require  a  passing  notice. 
This  dialogue,  as  we  have  before  stated,  is  one  of  the  chief  sources  for 
the  doctrine  of  reminiscence  and  preexistence.  Before  the  discussion 
is  introduced  upon  the  question  that  all  knowledge  is  merely  memory, 
Plato  weaves  in,  as  a  sort  of  poetic  preclude  and  preface,  "the  opinion 
of  Pindar,  and  many  other  men  skilful  in  divine  things,  that  the  soul  is 
immortal,  sometimes  becoming  eclipsed,  sometimes  reappearing,  but 
never  becoming  totally  extinct.  For  Proserpine,  at  the  end  of  nine 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          141 

These  inconsistencies  in  working  out  the  details 
of  the  soul's  future  condition,  and  the  poetic  li- 
cense everywhere  betrayed  in  the  treatment  of  the 
separate  myths,  seem  sufficient  to  condemn  them  as 
expositions  of  Plato's  views.  For  surely  he  would 
have  evinced  more  care,  and  would  have  shown 
more  anxiety  about  the  consistency  of  the  outline 
and  form  of  his  pictures,  although  he  might  be  ar- 
bitrary as  to  his  materials,  if  he  really  intended  to 
convey  through  them  his  decisive  views  as  to  the 
future  state  of  souls.  But  it  may  be  objected,  that, 
although  Plato  might  not  have  intended  the  myths 
to  be  clear  and  accurate  expositions  in  detail  of  his 
religious  views,  and,  therefore,  in  his  treatment  of 
them,  very  properly  subordinated  scientific  precis- 
years,  returns  to  the  light  of  the  sun  those  souls  who  have  paid  to  her 
the  debt  of  their  ancient  sins ;  and  from  these  souls  spring  illustrious 
kings,  celebrated  for  their  power,  and  men  remarkable  for  their  wis- 
dom," —  vol.  vi.,  pp.  170,  171.  The  passage  is  left  thus  in  its  poetic 
form,  —  the  latter  portion  quoted,  being,  probably,  a  fragment  of  some 
lost  ode  of  Pindar,  and  the  scientific  investigation  into  the  nature  of 
knowledge  begins.  The  whole  bears  marks  too  plainly  stamped  to  be 
mistaken,  that  it  is  poetic  embellishment,  an  artful  management  of 
the  transition  in  discourse,  and  a  relief  of  dialogistic  skill. 

In  the  ninth  book  of  the  Laws,  (vol.  viii.,  p.  185,)  occurs  another  allu- 
sion to  metempsychosis,  unimportant,  however,  in  our  examination, 
since  it  is  a  reference  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Eleusinian  mysteries,  and 
is  introduced  for  illustration.  Plato,  in  speaking  of  the  proper  punish- 
ment for  the  crime  of  murder,  and  in  a  preamble  to  his  legislation  upon 
that  point,  remarks,  that  it  is  proper  to  include  in  it  the  doctrine  of  the 
mysteries,  which  many  men  religiously  believe,  that  in  hell  are  reserved 
punishments  for  these  murders,  and  that  the  guilty  man,  commencing  a 
new  life,  is  condemned  to  undergo  the  same  punishment,  and  thus  ter- 
minate his  days  by  the  hand  of  another,  and  by  the  same  kind  of  death. 
The  design  of  the  allusion,  of  course,  is  to  strengthen  the  force  of  the 
law,  by  adding  to  it  the  sanctions  of  the  popular  religion. 


142          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY. 

ion  to  imaginative  freedom,  still  they  may  be  au- 
thoritative as  expressions  of  his  faith  in  the  funda- 
mental fact  of  metempsychosis,  on  which  they  rest, 
and  which  they  reveal.  That  the  myths  may  be 
received  as  hints  of  a  progressive  and  ceaseless 
activity  of  spirit  in  its  freer  life,  and  that  under 
the  picture  of  continual  changes,  he  may  have 
intentionally  vailed  the  theory  of  a  moral  cycle  of 
conditions  in  the  soul's  future  history,  is  a  some- 
what plausible,  though  we  think  an  indemonstrable 
hypothesis.  The  allusions  to  future  life  in  the 
Tenth  Book  of  the  Laws  would  seem  to  favor  it. 
For  there,  a  gradual  progress  of  souls  towards 
higher  degrees  of  happiness,  or  lower  degrees  of 
misery,  is  hinted  as  the  result  of  the  experience 
"  of  this  life,  and  of  all  the  deaths  we  successively 
undergo."  It  is  impossible,  that  a  single  soul  can 
escape  the  established  order  of  heaven,  "  were  it 
small  enough  to  penetrate  into  the  recesses  of 
earth,  or  great  enough  to  soar  even  to  the  sky ;  but 
it  must  bear  the  punishment  awarded  by  the  gods, 
either  on  earth,  or  in  hell,  or  in  some  other  and 
still  more  frightful  abode."1  The  theology  and 
theodicy  of  the  laws,  however,  present  so  many  in- 
consistencies between  the  principles  and  the  details  ; 
they  are  adulterated  by  so  much  that  is  palpably 
exoteric,  that  it  is  not  safe  to  draw  a  conclusion 
upon  such  a  point  from  their  testimony  alone.2  But 

1  Vol.  viii.,  pp.  266,  267. 

8  The  Tenth  Book  of  the  Laws  is  a  perfect  riddle.  No  person  can  read 
it  without  feeling  elevated  by  its  noble  views  of  God's  omnipresence, 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMOETALITY.          143 

that  in  such  a  cycle,  a  return  to  earthly  life  under  a 
bodily  vesture  was  not  really  included,  we  think  is 
evident  on  other  grounds.  A  mind  so  critical  as  Pla- 
to's would  not  have  entirely  overlooked  the  physio- 
logical question  suggested  by  transmigration,  name- 
ly, how  is  the  return  to  mortal  life  effected,  and 
what  connection  exists  between  departed  souls  and 
human  generation  ?  Even  if  no  solution  should  be 
hinted  in  scientific  form,'  a  myth  might  easily  have 
suggested  to  the  mind  some  probable  explanation. 
But  Plato  is  entirely  silent  on  this  point.  In  the 
Republic  and  Laws,  he  treats  at  length  of  marriage 
and  the  true  method  of  sexual  union  ;  and  it  would 
hardly  seem  possible  that,  holding  such  a  theory 
of  birth  as  must  necessarily  be  involved  in  metemp- 
sychosis, he  should  not  even  allude  to  it  in  such 
a  treatise.  On  the  contrary,  all  his  directions  and 
laws  are  hostile  to  the  view  of  transmigration ; 
the  two  theories  cannot  be  reconciled ;  and  since 
in  such  passages  we  may,  of  course,  presume  that 

and  the  moral  providence  which  reaches  all  men,  and  which  is  never 
withdrawn  for  an  instant  from  the  soul.  The  imagery  often  recalls  pas- 
sages from  the  Psalms  and  Isaiah ;  and  the  statement  seems  at  tunes  as 
clear  and  pure  as  the  language  of  Paul.  In  its  fundamental  principles, 
the  book  is  a  complete  system  of  Optimism;  and  recalls  at  once  the 
Theodicy  of  Leibnitz.  -And  yet  before  it  closes,  the  popular  worship  is 
sanctioned ;  the  evils  of  life  are  assumed  to  be  greater  than  the  goods,  — 
just  the  reverse  of  what  had  before  been  definitely  proved;  and  the 
hypothesis  of  two  souls  is  introduced  to  account  for  evil,  when  the 
,  whole  preceding  argument  had  been  directed  to  exhibit  the  complete 
and  ceaseless  agency  of  God  in  the  government  of  human  life,  to  show 
that  "  He,  who  directs  all  things,  has- disposed  them  for  the  preservation 
and  good  of  the  whole ;  that  each  part  experiences  or  does  only  what  it 
is  fitting  it  should  experience  and  do." 


VJ 

144          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

Plato  unfolds  his  honest  views,  his  silence  with  re- 
spect to  metempsychosis  may  be  taken  as  decisive 
evidence  against  the  supposition  that  he  held  the 
theory  as  a  scientific  dogma.1 

As  yet,  however,  we  have  left  the  main  argument 
against  metempsychosis  untouched.  It  is  not  in- 
cluded in  some  of  the  most  elaborate  myths.  In 
the  two  which  form  the  conclusion  of  his  severest 
moral  dialogues, — the  Phsedon  and  the  Gorgias, — . 
the  idea  of  transmigration  is  not  admitted.  The 
mythical  elements  of  the  picture  at  the  close  of  the 
Phsedon,  although  artistically  treated,  are  borrowed 
from  the  popular  faith.  The  common  distinctions 
between  the  realm  of  the  blessed  and  Tartarus  are 
affirmed ;  punishments  are  expiatory,  except  for 
offenders  of  the  last  degree  ;  and  philosophers  are 
reserved  for  a  purer  life,  entirely  bodiless,  in  dwell- 
ings more  beautiful  than  those  allotted  to  innocent 
but  less  cultivated  souls.  Socrates  closes  his  de- 
scription with  the  politic  warning  to  his  friends,  that 
although  things  may  not  occur  precisely  as  he  de- 
scribed, still,  the  only  wisdom  is  in  piety  during 
life ;  "  for  the  prize  of  the  combat  is  beautiful,  while 
the  hope  is  grand." 2  At  the  close  of  the  Gorgias, 
wliich  is  the  loftiest,  the  best  sustained,  and  the 

1  Schleiermacher,  who  seems  to  hold  to  the  tenet  of  metempsychosis 
as  a  Platonic  fact,  mentions  this  difficulty  in  his  notes  to  the  Republic, 
and  says,  "  We  cannot  suppose  it  escaped  Plato."  He  attempts  a  solu- 
tion of  it,  which  is  quite  ingenious  as  a  German  hint,  how  the  matter 
might  have  been  reconciled,  but  which,  unluckily,  has  no  foundation  in 
the  Platonic  books. 

*  Vol.  i.,  Phffldon,  pp.  312,  318,  314. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          145 

most  terrible  of  all  his  works,  the  same  facts  are 
used  as  a  basis  for  a  myth.     Nothing  can  exceed 
the  sublimity  of  the  scene  into  which  Plato  intro- 
duces the  disembodied  soul.     The  chief  topic  of  dis- 
cussion in  the  dialogue  had  been  justice,  and  its  re- 
lation to.  rhetoric.     It  is  a  masterly  attack  on  the 
ethics  of  the  time.     Socrates,  in  a  personal  conver- 
sation with  three   distinguished  rhetoricians,  had 
completely  riddled  the  morality  of  the  sophists  and 
pleaders,  and  had  shown  that  their  whole  art  was 
false,  having  no  relation  to  the  moral  wants  of  men. 
Justice,  he  showed  to  be  the  greatest  good,  and  its 
administration  disciplinary,  and  therefore  the  un- 
kindest  act  which  a  wise  man  could  commit  would 
be  to  save  his  friend  from  a  punishment  which  he 
deserved.     And  at  last,  to  prove  the  final  impotence 
of  the  sophist's  office,  he  shows,  that  if  it  be  able  to 
protect  from  righteous  retribution  in  this  life,  it  is 
powerless  with   the   terrible  judges   of  the  lower 
world.     The  soul  nor  the  body  at  the  moment  of 
separation — says  he — is  different  from  what  it  was 
as  a  living  man.     The  body  preserves  its  character, 
the  well-marked  vestiges,  both  of  the  care  it  has  re- 
ceived and  the  accidents  that  have  befallen  it.     If 
a  person  in  life  possessed  a  great  frame,  the  gift  of 
nature  or  the  result  of  training,  his  corpse  is  large. 
If  he  were  fleshy,  his  corpse  is  so.     If  he  delighted 
in  the  cultivation  of  his  hair,  many  locks  remain. 
If,  living,  he  bore  upon  his  body  scars  of  the  lash, 
or  any  other  wound,  all  will  be  found  there  after 
death.      If   any   member  were    broken    or    dislo- 
10 


146          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMOETALITY. 

cated  in  life,  when  dead  these  failings  are  still  visi- 
ble. And  so  with  regard  to  the  soul ;  when  It  is 
disrobed  of  the  body,«it  preserves  evident  marks  of 
its  character,  and  of  the  accidents  it  experienced  in 
consequence  of  the  life  which  it  embraced.  When, 
therefore,  men  arrive  before  their  judge,  he  examines 
the  soul  of  each  without  knowing  who  he  is ;  and 
often,  having  in  charge  the  great  king  or  some  other 
potentate  or  monarch,  and  discovering  nothing  heal- 
thy in  his  soul,  but  seeing  it  all  cicatrized  with  per- 
juries and  injustice  by  the  stamps  which  each  action 
has  engraven  there  ;  here  the  windings  of  falsehood 
and  vanity,  and  nothing  symmetrical,  because  it  had 
been  nourished  away  from  truth  ;  there  monstrous 
deformities,  and  all  the  ugliness  of  absolute  power, 
ememinacy,  licentiousness,  and  debauchery  ;  seeing 
it  thus,  he  sends  it  ignominiously  to  prison,  where 
it  will  no  sooner  have  arrived  than  it  will  undergo 
fitting  chastisement.  This  punishment  is  propor- 
tioned to  the  oifence,  and  sinners  of  the  deepest  die, 
who  cannot  be  reformed,  are  used  as  warnings  for 
the  rest,  and  condemned  to  eternal  pains.1  The 
whole  picture,  which  seems  a  dramatic  transpar- 
ency, lighted  by  the  fires  of  the  abyss,  reveals  no 
hint  of  the  metempsychosis  ;  punishment  prepares 
the  soul  for  more  spiritual  life,  and  the  scene  is 
closed  without  any  reference  to  a  return  to  bodily 
form  and  worldly  state. 

With  regard  to  the  much  vexed  question  of  trans- 
migration, then,  the  whole  facts   are   these :  The 

1  Vol.  iii.  pp.  408,  408. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          147 

theory  is  developed  in  a  mythical  form,  dressed  in 
the  drapery  of  imagination  ;  or  it  is  introduced  as 
an  ancient  opinion,  in  accordance  with  the  usual 
license  of  Plato's  dialogistic  art,  which  induced  him 
at  times  to  quote  Homer  and  Hesiod,  as  authority 
for  moral  truths  ;  of  it  is  communicated  through 
the  lips  of  some  poet  or  Pythagorean,  from  whom 
it  proceeds  with  dramatic  propriety,  and  accompan- 
ied by  a  warning  from  Plato  to  the  reader,  against 
receiving  it  as  anything  more  than  a  probable  state- 
ment, devoid  of  scientific  value.  It  is  inconsistent 
in  its  details  ;  is  unsupported  by  any  allusions  to  it, 
or  any  provision  for  it,  in  his  physiological  system  ; 
and  is,  moreover,  entirely  absent  from  equally  elab- 
orate myths,  which  are  introduced  to  reveal  the 
future  condition  of  the  soul.  Besides,  it  is  never 
connected,  for  a  moment,  with  the  idea  of  a  pre- 
existent,  bodily  life  on  earth,  as  is  said  to  have  been 
the  case  with  Pythagoras.1  Many  discrepancies  in 
the  Platonic  dialogues  have  been  reconciled  by  refer- 
ence to  the  time  of  composition  ;  statements,  in  the 
earlier  and  less  severely  constructed  works,  being 
made  to  yield,  very  properly,  to  the  more  authorita- 
tive and  careful  passages  of  the  later  writings.  But 
this  solution  is  denied  to  us  in  the  present  instance ; 
for  the  Phsedon  and  Gorgias,  whose  myths  contain 
no  allusion  to  transmigration,  are  universally  classed 


1  Mr.  Norton  in  the  third  volume  of  his  "  Genuineness  of  the  Gospels," 
attributes  this  opinion  to  Plato.  He  quotes  no  passages,  however,  and 
makes  no  allusion  to  any ;  but  nowhere  have  we  discovered  a  trace  of 
such  a  doctrine. 


148          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

with  the  most  trusty  sources  of  his  philosophy. 
Keeping  in  view,  therefore,  the  great  freedom  in  the 
scope  of  the  Platonic  dialogues,  remembering  the 
poetic  character  of  Plato's  mind,  and  his  artistic  as 
well  as  scientific  aim,  and  balancing,  with  an  even 
hand,  the  testimony  of  all  the  sources,  an  impartial 
criticism  must  decide  that  the  theory  of  transmi- 
gration borrowed  from  the  East  and  from  Pythago- 
ras, together  with  the  details  of  the  popular  my- 
thology of  his  country,  were  indifferent  to  Plato  as 
poetic  materials  for  the  clothing  of  his  views,  and 
that  he  used  both  with  a  license  which  his  followers 
could  easily  interpret,  as  media  for  impressing  upon 
the  imagination,  by  over-statements  and  highly- 
wrought  pictures,  ideas  which  reason  and  dialectics 
could  not  clearly  establish  or  convey.1 

1  Ritter,  in  his  History  of  Philosophy,  vol.  ii.,  p.  373,  throws  his  in- 
fluence in  favor  of  metempsychosis,  as  a  clear  and  decided  opinion  of 
Plato,  and  not  a  merely  figurative  or  mythical  exposition  of  the  soul's 
life  after  death.  He  thinks  it  in  accordance  with  Plato's  physical  sys- 
tem. But  he  takes  the  details  of  transmigration  entirely  from  the 
Timseus,  without  attempting  to  reconcile  the  conflicting  forms  of  the 
hypothesis,  and  without  previously  settling  the  claims  of  that  dialogue 
to  credit  as  a  scientific  work.  Moreover,  in  order  to  harmonize  the 
theory,  as  stated  in  the  Timasus,  with  what  he  calls  Plato's  physical 
system,  Ritter  is  obliged  to  deny  a  fundamental,  ethical  position  of  Pla- 
tonism,  viz.,  that  the  soul  of  the  philosopher  may  expect  an  entirely  in- 
corporeal existence,  and  return  to  immediate  communion  with  the 
divine.  The  license  of  criticism,  which  allows  him  to  reject  that,  isnot 
required  to  dissipate  the  whole  theory  of  transmigration  as  a  dogmatic 
element  of  Platonism.  Fries,  on  the  contrary  (Geschichte  der  Philoso- 
phic, vol.  i.,  p.  329),  contends  for  the  symbolical  treatment,  and,  with- 
out reference  to  Ritter,  since  his  work  was  written  first,  asserts  that 
there  is  no  physical  background  for  it  in  the  Timasus. 

No  point  of  Ritter's  exposition  of  Plato  is  more  unsatisfactory  than 
tho  pages  on  the  future  state.  He  fails  as  a  critic  of  Plato,  by  reason 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          149 

In  criticising  a  system  like  Plato's,  in  which  the 
scientific  and  poetic  are  so  closely  blended,  consid- 
erable importance  should  be  attached  to  the  har- 
mony of  a  tenet  with  the  general  moral  spirit  of  the 
whole.  Applying  this  canon  to  the  two  forms  in 
which  he  has  left  his  speculations  on  the  future 
state,  we  should  at  once  conclude  in  favor  of  that 
which  speaks  of  a  final,  future  condition,  entirely 
separate  from  earth,  and  should  therefore  be  in- 
clined to  accept  the  mythical  statements  of  the  Gor- 
gias  and  the  Phaedon  as  the  truer  sources  of  his  re- 
ligious creed.  It  is  rather  dangerous,  we  know,  to 
rely  too  confidently  on  such  a  rule  ;  but  the  mysti- 
cism, which  could  hold  honestly  the  tenet  of  trans- 
migration, would  be  very  apt  to  betray  itself  in 
moral  speculation  ;  and  therefore  the  clearness,  the 
severity,  the  admirable  purity  of  Plato's  ethical 
code,  furnish  strong  collateral  testimony  against  his 
faith  in  a  literal  succession  of  bodily  forms.  Pres- 


of  that  quality  of  mind  which  fits  him  for  an  admirable  exponent  of 
Aristotle,  — r  a  lack  of  imagination,  and  too  exclusive  reliance  on  words, 
without  appreciating  the  former  spirit  of  a  piece,  which  the  words  do 
not  exhaust,  but  which  pervades  them  magnetically,  and  gives  them 
form.  Platonism,  in  Bitter's  pages,  is  like  beauty  anatomized, — the  flesh 
and  bones  and  nerves  all  there,  but  the  beauty  gone.  From  a  note  of 
Cousin's,  (vol.  vi.  p.  480),  it  would  seem  tkat  Ritter,  in  a  separate  his- 
tory of  the  Pythagorean  philosophy,  indorsed  the  view  that  the  metemp- 
sychosis in  Platonism  was  merely  a  symbolical  statement  of  the  per- 
sistence of  intellect  under  the  mutability  of  forms.  We  have  never  seen 
that  work;  but  in  Ritter's  exposition  of  Pythagoreanism,  (Hist  of  Phil., 
vol  1,)  he  intimates  that  with  Pythagoras  the  theory  was  a  holy  myth, 
"  much  of  it  obscure,  and  indicative  only  of  the  soul's  immortality.  It 
is  a  queer  freak  of  criticism  to  attribute  the  theory  as  a  myth  to  Py- 
thagoras, and  as  a  dogmatic  tenet,  to  Plato. 


150          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

ent  to  the  mind  of  an  impartial  judge,  acquainted 
with  Christianity,  but  ignorant  of  Christian  parties, 
the  three  parables,  —  the  prodigal  son,  the  rich  man 
and  Lazarus,  and  the  sheep  and  goats, —  and  it  would 
not  require  much  critical  rashness  to  decide  their 
comparative  value  as  expressions  of  the  moral  spirit 
of  the  gospel.  The  two  last  mentioned  would  be 
accepted,  of  course,  as  equally  appropriate  with  the 
first  to  the  object  they -were  designed  to  illustrate  ; 
still  the  first  is  immeasurably  superior  as  an  expo- 
sition of  the  central  idea  of  Christianity,  the  love 
of  God,  while  the  others  contain  elements  designed 
merely  for  a  local  application,  and  are  given  in  a 
form  suited  only  to  the  culture  of  the  time.  And 
we  cannot  but  feel  that  the  same  injustice  is  done 
to  the  symmetry  of  Platonic  ethics,  by  fastening 
upon  it  the  tenet  of  transmigration,  as  would  be 
done  to  the  purity  of  Christian  theology,  by  literally 
applying  the  imagery  of  Abraham's  bosom,  and  the 
impassable  gulf,  and  the  details  of  the  judgment  to 
the  eternal  world. 

Great  value  too,  in  an  examination  of  this  kind, 
must  be  attributed  to  incidental  allusions,  and  side- 
way  hints,  and  unconscious  intimations,  with  re- 
spect to  the  future  state.  For  in  these  we  are  more 
apt  to  detect  the  real  opinions,  the  stable  faith  of  a 
mind  like  Plato's,  than  in  more  labored  artistic  pas- 
sages. We  observe  his  mind  in  its  undress,  when  it 
is  not  taking  attitudes  for  display.  And  these  allu- 
sions, which  are  very  numerous  throughout  his 
works,  are  hostile  to  the  view  of  transmigration. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.  151 

They  refer  always  to  a  coming  state  of  continued, 
but  severer  discipline.  The  form  in  which  these 
allusions  are  conveyed  belongs  to  the  popular  my- 
thology, but  the  ke*y-note  to  the  whole  is,  the  de- 
clared belief  of  Socrates  in  the  Phaedon,  that "  there 
,is  a  destiny  reserved  for  men  hereafter,  and  which, 
according  to  the  ancient  faith  of  the  race,  must  be 
better  for  the  good  than  for  the  wicked." l  In  the 
discussion  in  the  Gorgias,  too,  it  is  stated  that  "  the 
greatest  of  misfortunes  is  to  pass  into  the  other 
world  with  a  soul  loaded  with  crimes."-2  The  allu- 
sions to  the  future  world  in  the  "  Apology  of  Soc- 
rates," all  imply  a  disembodied  being,3  and  in  the 
Phsedon,  previous  to  the  introduction  of  "  that 
ancient  opinion,"  as  to  metempsychosis,  Socrates 
speaks  of  the  occupations  of  the  spiritual  state 
when,  "  freed  from  the  follies  of  the  body,  we  shall 
converse,  I  hope,  with  free  men  like  ourselves,  and 
shall  know,  by  ourselves,  the  essence  of  things."  * 
In  the  eleventh  book  of  the  Laws,  also,  the  souls  of 
the  departed  are  spoken  of  as  "  taking  still  some 
interest  in  human  affairs ; "  and  in  the  twelfth  book, 
speaking  of  the  soul,  he  says  that  the  body  is  its 
temporary  image,  its  simulacrum,  and  that  it  passes 
at  death  into  another  state,  to  find  other  judges, 
and,  "  as  tradition  says,  to  render  an  account  of 
its  actions,  —  an  account  as  cheering  to  the  good  as 
it  is  frightful  to  the  wicked." 5 

1  Vol.  i.,  p.  198.  •    *  Vol.  iii.,  p.  403. 

8  Vol.  i.,  pp.  118, 119.  *  Vol.  i.,  p.  206. 

6  Vol.  viii.,  pp.  310,  876.    See  also  Epinomis,  vol.  xiii.,  p.  2;  Republic, 
book  i.,  p.  9;  Book  iii.,  pp.  122  et  seq.;  Book  vi.,  p.  33;  Timseus,  p. 


152          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

Our  excuse  for  dwelling  so  long  upon  the  point 
of  transmigration  must  be  the  strange  diversity  in 
the  judgment  of  commentators  respecting  it,  the 
fact  that  no  thorough  examination  of  all  the  passa- 
ges referring  to  it  has  ever  fallen  under  our  notice, 
and  a  desire  to  rescue  the  moral  system  of  Plato 
'  from  the  stain  of  a  doctrine  so  absurd,  and  so  for«. 
eign  to  Plato's  honest  thought.  As  the  review  of 
this  question  has  brought  out  nearly  all  the  allusions 
in  the  dialogues  to  the  future  state,  the  nature  of 
Plato's  views  relative  to  man's  final  destiny  may  be 
readily  anticipated.  We  have  no  data  to  warrant 
the  positive  assertion  that  he  held  to  the  final  pu- 
rification of  all  souls  from  sin.  It  will  be  readily 


143.    We  cannot  refrain  from  alluding,  in  this  connection,  to  a  celebrated 
passage  in  the  seventh  letter  of  Plato,  which  is  hostile  to  the  idea  of 
transmigration.    As  the  letters  have  been  suspected  by  many  critics, 
and  rejected  by  some  as  spurious,  we  have  hardly  been  willing  to 
strengthen  our  argument  by  giving  great  prominence  to  their  testimony. 
Our  own  opinion  is  in  favor  of  their  genuineness,  and  as  we  have  before 
stated,  Boeckh  has  thrown  his  ballot  for  the  authenticity  of  the  seventh, 
which  is  the  only  one  we  quote.    The  testimony  of  this  document,  if 
received,  is  the  more  valuable,  as  we  may  fairly  presume  that  opinions 
expressed'in  the  frankness  of  social  correspondence  may  be  more  safely 
trusted  as  an  honest  expression  of  Plato's  views.    "  Inanimate  beings," 
says  he,  "  can  experience  no  good  or  evil ;  but  every  soul  must  expe- 
rience them,  both  during  its  union  with  the  body,  and  after  it  shall  be 
separated  from  it.     We  must  confide  in  the  holy  doctrine  that  the  soul 
is  immortal;  that  after  its  release  from  the  body  it  finds  judges  who  are 
strict,  and  punishments  severe,  and  consequently,  that  it  js  q,  more 
trifling  evil  to  suffer  than  to  commit  injustice.   .....    Unhappiness 

is  inseparable  from  all  injustice,  and  a  fatal  law  condemns  the  unjust 
soul  to  draw  with  it  this  impiety  wherever  it  may  sojourn  in  this 
world,  and  during  its  wandering  courses  under  the  earth,  providing  for 
it,  everywhere,  the  most  shameful  and  miserable  experience,"  (vol.  xiii., 
letter  7,  pp.  88,  89.) 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY.          153. 

seen,  from  the  tenor  of  the  passages  we  have  intro- 
duced, that  future  conscious  existence  was  not  only 
with  him  a  speculative  belief  founded  on  pyscholog- 
ical  analysis,  but  also  a  demand  of  our  spiritual  na- 
ture, to  satisfy  the  claims  of  the  moral  law.  Under 
whatever  forms,  or  with  whatever  poetic  license  he 
depicted  the  circumstances  and  fixed  the  details  of 
the'  soul's  future  condition,  that  condition  itself  was 
never  arbitrary  in  his  thought,  but  always  a  neces- 
sary result  of  the  soul's  moral  development.  The 
severity  of  his  ethical  views  involved  the  idea  of 
immortality  as  indispensable,  not  indeed  to  restore, 
but  to  perfect  the  order  seemingly  violated  here. 
He  looked  upon  the  spiritual  life  of  men  as  a  circle, 
of  which  the  present  state  is  but  an  arc,  but  whose 
full  sweep  requires  and  includes  the  progressive  ex- 
perience of  futurity. 

It  has  been  charged  upon  Plato  that  he  held  to 
the  immediate  efflux  of  all  souls  from  God,  and  to 
a  reabsorption  of  spirit  into  the  divine  essence. 
We  do  not  know  a  single  passage  which  gives  even 
plausibility  to  such  a  view.  Everywhere  the  future 
life  is  posited  as  a  state  of  spiritual  development,  as 
personal  age'nts,  either  in  an  upward  or  downward 
course.1  This  is  the  soul  of  his  moral  system ;  and 

1  Mr.  Norton  asserts  (Gen.  of  the  Gospels,  p.  109,  note,)  that  "as  re- 
gards the  generality  of  men,  Plato's  scheme  was  wholly  inconsistent 
with  a  belief  in  their  personal  immortality."  This  is  the  most  mon- 
strous perversion  of  Platonism  that  can  possibly  be  framed.  •  There  is 
no  justification  for  the  remark  in  the  letter,  or  the  spirit,  of  a  single  dog- 
matic or  mythical  passage  throughout  the  range  of  Plato's  works.  In 
fact,  the  very  next  passages  of  Mr.  Norton's  note  are  inconsistent  with 


154          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

it  was  to  express  this  fact  that  the  metempsychosis 
and  the  imagery  of  the  popular  mythology  were 
used  with  such  poetic  freedom  and  complete  indif- 
ference. Accordingly,  whenever  they  are  intro- 
duced, no  matter  what  sacrifices  may  be  made  to 
the  demands  of  dramatic  propriety  or  to  elegance 
of  form,  the  idea  of  retribution  and  of  continuous 
moral  development  is  preserved  as  the  central  and 
stable  fact.  Neither  can  it  be  denied  that  generally 
he  affirmed  the  punishments  of  the  coming  state  to 
be  disciplinary.  His  view  of  the  relation  between 
this  life  and  the  future  was  not  that  of  modern  or- 
thodoxy. Nothing  is  farther  removed  from  the 
spirit  of  his  philosophy  than  the  idea  that  life  is  a 
probationary  state,  and  that  the  experience  of  the 
future  is  to  the  guilty  an  unalterable  penalty  for 
sin.  Under  the  veil  of  transmigration,  in  the  suc- 
cessive manifestations  through  forms,  the  cycles  of 
whose  changes  would  at  last  restore  the  soul  to  pu- 
rity and  spiritual  freedom,  was  hidden  Plato's  view 
of  the  future  as  a  disciplinary  state.  This  reappears 
in  every  myth  ;  and  in  the  Gorgias  and  Phsedon  es- 
pecially he  shows  the  efficacy  of  punishment  in  re- 
claiming the  great  majority  of  souls  to  a  life  of  pu- 


the  statement.  Plato  held  firmly  to  the  personal  immortality  of  every 
soul,  and  to  a  graduated  scale  of  disciplinary  punishments,  applied  to 
individual  sinners  according  to  the  nature  of  their  crimes.  Many  other 
instances  of  misapprehension  might  be  quoted  from  the  allusions  to 
Plato  in-the  third  volume  of  "  The  Genuineness  ot  the  Gospels."  Mr. 
Norton,  though  apparently  well  read  in  the  Platonic  writings,  very 
rarely  seizes  the  spirit  of  Platonism,  and,  on  the  whole,  is  one  of  the 
least  trustworthy  of  Plato's  commentators. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          155 

rity.  But,  in  the  last-mentioned  dialogues,  he  speaks 
of  some  who  are  too  far  gone  to  be  reclaimed,  and 
whose  punishment  is  continued,  not  with  the  hope 
of  benefiting  them,  but  as  a  warning  to  other  of- 
fenders. It  is  somewhat  singular  that  it  is  tyrants 
mostly  who  are  thus  delivered  over  by  Plato's  jus- 
tice to  eternal  woe  as  incurable.  "  I  think,"  says 
he,  "  that  the  greater  part  of  those  thus  used  for 
spectacles,  are  tyrants,  kings,  rulers,  and  politicians. 
For  it  is  they  who,  by  reason  of  the  power  with 
which  they  are  clothed,  commit  actions  the  most 
unjust  and  impious.  Homer,  too,  is  on  my  side. 
Those  whom  he  represents  as  tormented  eternally 
in*  hell,  are  kings  and  potentates,  like  Tantalus  and 
Sysiphus."  l  In  the  Phaedrus,  too,  as  we  have  seen, 
the  ninth  and  last  degree  of  fallen  souls  become  ty- 
rants ;  and  in  the  tenth  book  of  the  Republic,  those 
whose  crimes  are  remediless  and  who  are  tormented 
by  devils,  are  said  to  be  Ardys,  and  others,  "  of 
whom  the  most  part  were,  like  him,  tyrants." 2 
When  we  bear  in  mind  the  frequent  accommodations 
to  the  prevailing  religious  conceptions  of  the  time, 
which  are  scattered  throughout  the  Platonic  dia- 
logues, it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  decide  the  value 
of  the  few  passages  that  speak  of  eternal  punish- 
ment. The  theory  of  transmigration,  certainly,  is 
more  favorable  to  the  idea  of  universal  restoration  ; 
for  in  the  mythic  forms  under  which  that  is  con- 
veyed, although  no  picture  is  presented  of  a  com- 
plete return,  the  language  is  generally  favorable  to 

1  Vol.  iii.,  Gorgi'as,  pp.  408,  409.  *  Vol.  x.,  p.  283. 


156          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

the  hypothesis,  and  no  degree  of  corruption  is  spoken 
of  as  too  stubborn  to  be  cured.  The  idea  involved 
in  the  metempsychosis  is  the  one  expressed  in  the 
Thnasus,  that  condemnation  to  successive  animal 
forms  "  will  not  cease  till,  governing  by  reasoning 
its  grosser  nature,  the  soul  renders  itself  worthy  to 
receive  its  first  and  excellent  conditions." *  The 
power  to  amend  is  given  to  the  soul  even  in  its  most 
degraded  state,  and  a  fair  inference  from  the  general 
language  used  in  stating  the  theory  of  transmigra- 
tion, would  be  that  a  return  to  virtue  will  finally  be 
effected.  Accordingly,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  — 
since  punishment  in  the  coming  life  is  so  generally 
stated  to  be  disciplinary  —  the  exception  in  the 
case  of  tyrants,  while  it  was  necessary  in  order  to 
preserve  the  consistency  of  the  myths,  as  represen- 
tations of  the  popular  belief  in  eternal  woe,  may 
not  have  been  intended  to  express  Plato's  horror  at 
unjust  and  arbitrary  government  as  the  most  hei- 
nous and  least  expiable  of  crimes. 

And,  certainly,  if  Plato  really  held  the  doctrine 
of  utter  perdition,  there  is  a  dissonance,  an  insoluble 
discord,  between  the  outward  artistic  form  and  the 
inward  moral  spirit  of  his  philosophy.  Looking  at 
his  religious  principles  when  abstractedly  stated,  they 
are  pure  and  lofty,  above,  we  must  say,  much  of 
the  theology  of  the  Church  to-day.  Good,  in  Plato's 
system,  is  the  fundamental  quality,  the  essential 
character  of  God.  He  is  the  author  solely  of  good. 

In  his  model  state,  Plato  would  permit  no  poets'  to 

* 

1  Vol.  xiii.,  Tim.  p.  189 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          157 

ascribe  the  misfortunes  and  calamities  of  men  to  the 
design  of  Deity,  unless  they  should  maintain  that 
chastisement  is  no  misfortune,  and  that  punishment 
has  turned  to  the  advantage  of  the  criminal.1  All 
natural  phenomena  are  so  ordered  as  to  subserve 
some  purpose  of  good.  "  There  is  a  Providence 
which  extends  to  all  men.  Thyself,  mean  mortal, 
insignificant  as  thou  mayest  be,  art  of  some  account 
in  the  general  order,  and  related  to  it  incessantly. 
If  thou  murmur,  it  is  from  lack  of  knowledge  how 
thy  private  good  is  related  at  once  to  thyself  and  to 
the  all,  according  to  the  laws  of  universal  exist- 
ence." 2  To  a  mind  animated  with  such  views  of 
Deity,  of  course  the  problem  of  evil  must  have  pre- 
sented itself  as  a  knotty  subject  of  speculation. 
There  is  abundant  evidence,  in  the  dialogues,  that 
it  troubled  Plato  exceedingly,  and  that  he  grappled 
with  it  often,  anxious  to  obtain  a-  clear  solution. 
His  explanations  of  it  are  various ;  many  of  them 
visionary  (such  for  instance  as  the  myth  of  "  the 
Statesman,")  and  destitute,  doubtless,  even  to  his 
own  mind,  of  scientific  value.  But  he  always  clung 
with  invincible  tenacity  to  the  entire  freedom  of  the 
human  will.  He  is  ultra,  uncompromising  on  this 
point ;  and  in  no  dialogue  has  he,  to  our  knowledge, 
attempted  to  show  the  consistency  of  this  entire 
freedom  with  a  controlling  Providence.  It  is  always 
stated  in  the  boldest  form.  Plato's  piety  would  not 
suffer  the  character  of  Deity  to  be  implicated  for  a 

moment  with  the  question  of  evil.     "  God  leaves  to 

i 

1  Vol.  ix.,  Rep.,  p.  113.  t  Vol.  viii.,  Laws,  p.  263. 


158  PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY. 

the  disposition  of  our  will  the  causes  on  which  the 
quality  of  each  depends." *  "  Virtue  has  no  master ; 
it  cleaves  to  him  who  honors  it  and  abandons  him 
who  rejects  it.  Each  is  responsible  for  his  choice. 
God  is  guiltless."2  And  with  this  responsibility  was 
connected  the  dignity  of  the  soul.  "No  man,"  said 
he,  "  is  willingly  evil."  This  is  a  fundamental  and 
continually  recurring  point  of  Platonic  ethics.  He 
borrowed  it  from  Socrates,  and  was  faithful  to  it 
throughout. 

No  man  desires  to  be  subject  to  evil.  The  end 
of  every  volition  is  not  the  act  committed ;  but  that 
for  the  sake  of  which  the  act  is  committed,  and  this 
in  every  undertaking  is  ultimate  good.3  In  the  last 
analysis,  the  true  and  the  good  are  one.  Evil,  there- 
fore, is  moral  ignorance  ;  and  since  the  soul  is  essen- 
tially reason,  it  cannot  voluntarily  be  subjected  to 
ignorance,  and  is  not  therefore  voluntarily  wicked.4 
The  virtuous  man  is  the  true  artist  who  has  his 
aim  and  can  attain  it ;  and  vice  must  be  attributed, 
not  really  to  the  will,  but  to  lack  of  art.5  The 
only  consistent  theory  of  eternal  punishment  then, 
for  Plato,  is  eternity  of  sin,  which  is  itself  contra- 
dictory to  the  last-mentioned  view  of  the  harmony 
of  the  soul  with  virtue.  We  see,  therefore,  that 
the  idea  of  eternal  punishment  as  depicted  in  the 
Gorgias  and  the  Phaedon,  is  entirely  hostile  to 
Plato's  declared  views  of  God  and  man,  and  moral 

1  Vol.  viii.,  Laws,  p.  265.  a  Vol.  10,  Rep.,  p.  287. 

8  Vol.  vi.,  Meno.  «  Vol.  xi.,  Sophist.  ^ 

•  Vol.  iv.,  The  Second  Hippias. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY.          159 

order.  It  is  contrary  to  his  views  of  God ;  for  he 
must  not  be  charged  with  the  commission  of  any 
evil,  but  arranges  all  things  for  the  best;  of  man, 
since  the  very  essence  of  the  soul  is  free  causality 
and  natural  harmony  with  good ;  of  moral  order, 
since  to  suppose  that  God  removes  from  the  soul 
this  freedom,  or  that  it  loses  this  love  of  good, 
would  not  only  violate  his  scheme  of  human  nature, 
but  would  destroy  the  very  principle  which  solved 
for  Plato  the  origin  of  evil.  Olympiodorus,  one  of 
the  Alexandrian  commentators  of  Plato,  takes  up 
the  passage  in  the  Gorgias  which  teaches  eternal 
punishment,  and  attempts  to  account  for  its  intro- 
duction there.  "  Punishment,"  says  he,  "  cannot 
be  eternal ;  much  better  to  say  that  the  soul  is  per- 
ishable. An  unending  pain  can  do  no  good,  for  it 
is  useless.  But  God  and  nature  do  nothing  in 
vain."  He  accounts  for  the  passage  by  contending 
that  Plato  used  the  word  eternal  with  reference  to 
the  order  of  the  heavenly  spheres.  The  moral  cycle 
of  the  world  corresponds  to  the  motions  of  the 
planets,  and  when  the  whole  system  shall  have  re- 
turned to  the  same  relative  positions  from  which 
they  started  with  respect  to  each  other  and  the  sun, 
a  new  period  will  commence.  The  cycle  includes 
many  thousand  years,  and  it  is  to  this  period  that 
Plato  refers  in  his  use  of  the  term  everlasting.  The 
criticism  does  honor  to  the  benevolence  of  the  com- 
mentator, who,  with  all  the  Alexandrine  school,  we 
believe,  rejected  the  doctrine  of  eternal  woe.1  But 

» 

1  See  the  whole  commentary  quoted  by  Cousin  in  the  notes  to  hia 


160          PLATO'S  VIEWS  OP  IMMORTALITY. 

it  is  entirely  fanciful  as  a  solution  of  the  passage  in 
question,  and  we  must  fall  back  upon  the  inconsist- 
ency of  the  tenet  with  Plato's  ethics  and  theology 
as  affording  reasonable  proof  that,  like  the  whole 
myth  in  which  it  occurs,  it  was  borrowed  from  pop- 
ular superstition,  and  was  preserved,  in  obedience  to 
the  law  of  artistic  consistency,  as  an  embellishment 
to  the  severe  moral  discussion  of  the  Gorgias. 

translation  of  Plato,  vol.  iii.,  Gorgias.-  We  cannot  help  contrasting  this 
view  of  the  ancient  philosopher  with  the  glee  which  inspires  a  modern 
Christian  critic  —  Dr.  Tayler  Lewis  —  in  detailing  the  facts  of  Plato's 
myths.  He  seems  quite  delighted  with  the  aid  which  Plate  brings  to 
his  theology,  and  more  than  once  forces  him  into  the  field  against  "  mod- 
ern semi-infidels  and  neologists."  We  doubt  -whether  Plato  would  be 
elated  with  the  honor  of  a  doctorate  in  Calvinistic  divinity ;  at  any 
rate,  when  modern  orthodoxy  shall  become  Platonic,  Christianity  will 
have  occasion  to  rejoice  over  her  freedom  from  many  n  theological 
excrescence;  and  the  world  of  woe,  at  least,  may  expect  to  be  visited 
and  cheered  by  some  Tays  of  mercy  from  the  throne  of  Love.  Dr. 
Lewis's  admiration  seems  almost  equally  divided  between  Plato  and  the 
Bible.  He  defends  some  of  Plato's  wildest  flights  of  fancy  by  the  letter 
of  Scripture,  as  in  the  case  of  tho  animation  of  the  heuvenly  bodies. 
Plato  at  times  seems  to  imagine  that  the  planets  had  souls  and  are  intel- 
ligent beings,  which  Dr.  Lewis  considers  a  very  plausible  idea,  and  seeks 
to  defend  from  the  Old  Testament.  "  The  Bible  teaches  us,"  says  he, 
'•  that  even  the  ordinary  courses  of  physical  events  are  tinder  the  con- 
trolling agency  of  angelic  beings.  'He  maketh  his  angels  winds,  his 
ministers  a  flaming  fire.  Why  not  an  angel  of  the  sun,  of  the  moon, 
and  of  each  planet?  Was  it  simply  a  sublime  personification,  when  it 
was  said,  He  bringeth  out  their  host  by  number,  he  calleth  them  all  by  their 
name  f  or  when  we  are  told  that,  at  the  creation  of  our  earth,  THE 
STARS  OF  THE  MORNING  sang  together,  and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted 
for  joy?"  And  yet  with  all  Plato's  orthodoxy,  Dr.  Lewis's  mind  seems 
not  entirely  at  ease  upon  the  question  of  his  salvation.  Could  he  trace 
anything  of  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement  "  in  the  lives  or  writings  of 
Plato  and  Socrates,"  he  should  "  indulge  more  hope  of  their  salvation 
from  it  than  from  any  of  those  moral  lessons  — truly  beautiful  and  sub- 
lime as  they  are  —  which  have  been  left  to  us  in  their  immortal  dia- 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.  161 

It  may  easily  be  seen,  from  the  rapid  survey  we 
have  taken  of  Plato's  passages  on  immortality,  that 
the  task  of  criticism  is  no  pastime.  And  so  far  as 
results  in  plain  black  and  white,  in  dogmatic  sen- 
tences, are  concerned,  it  certainly  is  unsatisfactory. 
"  Myths,"  says  Cousin,  "  can  never  b'e  translated." 
It  is  almost  impossible  to  convey  by  analysis  the 
fresh  impressions  produced  by  the  perusal  of  an 
author  like  Plato.  He  is  an  artist.  In  his  dia- 
logues, as  in  his  mind,  tlie  philosophic  and  the 
poetic,  the  beautiful  and  true,  unite  and  blend. 
No 'author  is  less  likely  to  be  appreciated,  or  more 
likely  to  be  misunderstood  by  a  cold,  severe,  and 
unimaginative  thinker.  He  must  be  read  by  an 
eye  that  can  look  beneath  the  words ;  he  must  be 
criticised  by  a  spirit  hi  sympathy  with  the  author's 
aim,  and  which  can  resign  itself  to  the  influence 
of  the  dialogues,  often  trusting  to  feeling  as  its 
guide,  rather  than  to  a  microscopic  analysis  of  sen- 
tences. Such  a  mind,  while  from  the  diversity  of 
the  materials,  and  the  various  poetic  developments 
of  the  thought,  it  feels  the  difficulty  of  stating  with 
precision  the  form  of  Plato's  views,  will  rise  from 
the  study  of  them  impressed  with  their  power  and 
elevated  by  their  purity.  It  will  no  more  impute 
to  Plato  the  literal  views  developed  in  many  of  his 
gorgeous  philosophic  poems,  than  it  would  judge 
the  theology  of  Phidias  by  his  head  of  Jove,  or  the 
faith  of  Goethe  by  his  picture  of  Mephistophiles. 
The  results  to  which  a  criticism  fitted  to  disen- 
tangle the  Platonic  dialogues  would  arrive,  as  to 
11 


162          PLATO'S  .VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY. 

their  doctrine  of  immortality,  would  be  immeasu- 
rably more  accurate,  we  believe,  as  they  would  be 
more  noble  than  could  be  developed  by  any  textual 
harmony.  It  would  grant  that  concerning  every- 
thing coimected  with  the  soul  and  man's  spiritual 
nature,  Platonism  is  vastly  superior  to  any  other 
form  of  ancient,  we  may  almost  add,  even  of  mod- 
ern speculation.  For  Plato  never  faltered  in  his 
spiritual  view  of  man.  The  superior  principle  and 
governing  agency  of  the  universe  was  one  infinite, 
controlling  Mind,  entirely  independent  of  material 
forms.  And  so  the  spirit  in  man,  with  him,  was 
superior  to  its  fleshly  envelope,  an  indivisible,  eter- 
nally subsisting  entity.  The  proofs  brought  to  estab- 
lish this  point  may  seem  futile  to  modern  logic  ;  but 
the  moral  end  and  aim  of  existence,  the  relation  of 
the  soul  to  duty  and  the  moral  law,  everywhere 
implied  in  Plato's  system,  compel  us  to  rank  it 
next  to,  though  far  enough  removed  from,  the 
ethics  of  the  gospel.  Plato  keeps  the  soul  ever  in 
the  light  of  eternity.  His  theory  of  life  is  based 
upon  a  consciousness  of  the  enduring  nature  of  the 
spirit  and  its  nearer  relation-,  in  its  disembodied 
state,  to  eternal  justice,  the  discipline  and  retribu- 
tion of  impartial  wisdom.  The  limit  which  divides 
the  abstract  theology  of  Platonism  from  the  ab- 
stract theology  of  Christianity  is  the  boundary  line 
which  separates  the  intellectual  principle  of  justice 
from  the  higher  quality  of  love. 

Looking  about  in  modern  times  for  some  man 
with  whose  views  to  compare  Plato's  theories  of  the 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  OF  IMMORTALITY.          163 

future  state,  we  should  say  that  it  has  a  nearer 
affinity  with  the  speculations  of  Swedenborg  than 
with  those  of  any  other  thinker ;  inasmuch  as  the 
central  idea  of  most  of  the  Platonic  myths  would 
seem  to  be  that  the  soul  creates  its  own  objective 
^circumstances  according  to  its  inner  character, 
with  the  difference,  however,  that,  with  Sweden- 
borg, the  condition  of  the  soul  in  future  life  is 
fixed  and  final  from  the  beginning,  while  with 
•Plato  there  is  a  constant  development  of  life,  the 
successive  cycles  of  its  discipline  promising  at  last 
to  restore  the  soul  to  good.  The  man  who  reads 
Plato,  expecting  to  find  logical  arguments  for  im- 
mortality, applicable  to  the  present  state  of  science, 
will  certainly  be  disappointed.  There  is  no  danger 
that  the  Christian  will  be  anxious  to  exchange  the 
grounds  of  his  belief  for  the  supports,  of  philosophy 
alone.  Still,  no  man  can  become  thoroughly  im- 
bued with  the  spirit  of  Plato's  views,  without  being 
better  able  to  appreciate  the  simplicity  and  purity 
of  the  gospel ;  and  it  is  a  valuable  and  inspiring 
truth  which  Platonism  sufficiently  reveals,  that  the 
human  mind,  in  proportion  as  it  becomes  more 
spiritual,  and  learns  to  live  within  itself,  feels  a 
witness  of  its  dignity  and  destiny,  and  is  elevated 
to  a  sense  of  certainty  as  to  its  enduring  life,  which 
logic,  though  it  may  not  be  able  satisfactorily  to' 
establish,  is  utterly  unable  to  weaken  or  remove. 


VI. 

THOUGHT  AND  THINGS. 


I 


ST.  PAUL  has  said,  "  The  things  which  are  seen 
are  temporal ;  but  the  things  which  are  not  seen 
are  eternal."  And,  apart  from,  the  special  reference 
of  the  passage  to  the  superior  stability  bf  spiritual 
interests  and  treasures,  a  consideration  of  it  may 
lead  us  to  alter  our  general  estimate  of  what  is 
truly  transitory  and  what  permanent  in  life.  It 
represents  the  relations  between  spirit  and  matter, 
between  the  ideal  and  impalpable,  and  the  gross  and 
sensual ;  between  thought  and  things. 

The  common  philosophy  of  the  world  ascribes 
true  permanence  and  substantial  persistence  to  the 
objects  of  our  senses,  to  the  whole  outward  universe, 
to  what  we  see,  hear,  and  feel.  Thoughts,  senti- 
ments, perceptions  of  right  and  beauty  and  truth, 
the  soul  and  affections,  systems  of  philosophy,  liter- 
atures, views  of  religion  ;  —  these  are  abstractions, 
they  are  fleeting  and  variable ;  they  are  ghostly, 
speculative,  unreal;  while  houses  and  estates,  the 
stomach  and  brain,  armies  and  money,  the  visible 
deeds  of  men,  and  whatever  we  can  discover  of  the 
world  by  the  aid  of  our  eyes  and  our  instruments  ; 
these  are  impregnable /ac/s,  about  which  there  can 

164 


THOUGHT  AND  THINGS.  165 

be  no  mistake,  stubborn  and  solid  as  the  stones  that 
pave  the  streets.  A  piece  of  rock  in  the  hand  is 
felt  by  any  one  to  be  a  poetty  substantial  thing ;  to 
institute  a  comparison  between  it  and  a  perception 
of  truth  and  beauty,  as  to  real  power  and  durability, 
would  be  taken  by  a  majority  of  people  as  an  evi- 
dence of  insanity. 

Without  denying  now  the  correctness  of  this  es- 
timate of  material  nature,  and  the  sensual  side  of 
life,  we  affirm  that  it  is  not  so  real,  so  substantial, 
in  the  highest  sense,  as  the  realm  of  thoughts  and 
feelings  and  abstract  principles.  For,  when  we 
study  rightly,  we  shall  see  that  all  outward  and 
material  nature,  and  all  the  facts  and  appearances 
of  life,  are  but  the  manifestations  and  forms  through 
which  hidden,  subtile,  abstract  thoughts  and  forces 
are  revealed.  We  must  not  think  to  determine  true 
reality  and  strength  by  weight  and  measure.  The 
stream  of  fire  that  splits  the  oak  is  hardly  a  ponder- 
able thing.  That  is  the  most  durable  and  real,  we 
will  all,  I  think,  allow,  which  moulds  and  causes  and 
creates,  which  subjects  other  things  to  its  influence, 
and  determines  their  character  and  form.  Now, 
the  side  of  nature  which  seems  to  the  senses  so  firm 
and  enduring  is  not  the  causal  side,  but  only  the 
passive  side,  the  effect  the  product,  the  transitory 
case  or  shell  of  deep,  underlying,  active,  permanent 
powers.  It  is  the  veil  of  a  more  delicate,  refined, 
but  greater  presence,  the  obedient  body  of  a  subtile, 
indwelling  soul.  What  we  see  is  temporal ;  it  is 


166  THOUGHT 'AND  THINGS. 

the  unseen  always  that  possesses  the  essential  life, 
and  is  permanent  and  eternal. 

The  subject  may  be  illustrated  on  the  broadest 
scale  by  reference  to  the  outward  universe  itself  as 
presented  to  us  by  modern  astronomy.  How  sub- 
blime  is  the  spectacle  revealed  to  the  imagination 
by  the  physical  glories  with  which  space  is  filled ! 
I  will  not  attempt  to  convey,  by  words,  a  picture  of 
the  magnificence  of  the  visible  universe.  The  effort 
would  be  futile.  And  yet  the  whole  scene  is  only 
the  picture  of  ideas,  the  imagery  of  thought,  the 
hieroglyphic  record  of  the  art  and  meditation  of  the 
Deity.  There  is  not  a  planet  that  wheels  a  tiny 
circle  around  its  controlling  flame  ;  not  a  sun  that 
sheds  its  steady  radiance  upon  the  dark  depths  of 
neighboring  space  ;  not  a  comet  that  rushes  through 
its  eccentric  track ;  not  a  constellation  among  all 
that  burn  like  fantastic  chandeliers  upon  the  dome 
of  heaven ;  not  a  firmament  that  hangs  like  a  rag- 
ged fringe  of  light  upon  the  confines  of  infinity,  that 
is  not  merely  the  visible  statement  of  a  conception 
or  wish  which  dwells  in  the  mind  of  God,  from 
which  it  was  born,  and  to  which  alone  it  owes  its 
present'  form  and  being.  It  was  the  thought  of  the 
Almighty  that  first  gave  meaning  to  universal  chaos. 
Darkness  hung  over  the  deep  of  things  till  the  spirit 
of  God  moved  over  it,  and  infused  its  essence  into 
nature  ;  and  it  was  in  answer  to  the  silent  will  of 
the  Invisible,  that  light  burst  like  a  wave  of  glory 
over  an  orderly  creation. 

Science  impresses  deeply  on  the  student  the  les- 


THOUGHT  AND   THINGS.  167 

son  that  there  is  a  causal  force,  a  stability  in  the 
ideal  world,  of  which  the  material  is  only  the  tran- 
sitory show.  The  curves  and  circles  and  ellipses, 
which  the  planets  cut  in  space  are  the  geometry  of 
God.  The  oscillations  which  at  times  disturb  and 
threaten  to  destroy  the  stellar  harmonies,  reveal  the 
intricate  method  of  eternal  order,  when  we  see  them 
compensating  each  other  and  mutually  controlled 
into  the  most  stable  concord.  The  chemic,  electric, 
magnetic  forces  that  preserve  the  universe  in  con- 
stant activity  and  sustain  its  life,  are  nothing  else 
than  the  immediate  agency  of  the  spirit  that  is 
hidden  in  its  frame.  Take  these  away  from  our 
conceptions  of  the  outward  world,  and  what  would 
be  left?  The  sensualist  feels  the  ground  to  be 
solid  beneath  his  feet,  and  calls  that  substantial. 
And  yet  we  tread  only  on  a  subtile,  invisible  force. 
What  is  it  that  makes  the  earth  compact,  and  binds 
the  hardest  rock  into  its  firm  consistence  ?  Noth- 
ing but  the  forces  of  cohesion  and  gravitation. 
Withdraw  these  from  matter  and  instantly  it  be- 
comes a  mist  of  finest  sand ;  it  crumbles  and  dissi- 
pates into  motes  smaller  than  an  animalcule's  eye, 
it  flies  off  into  nothing.  And  these  laws  and  powers 
are  God's  will  and  thoughts ;  we  tread  on  abstract 
principles.  It  is  overwhelming,  the  revelation  which 
modern  science  gives  of  the  impalpable  and  spiritual 
forces  that  underlie,  surround,  and  enclose  us  all. 
Strike  the  ideal  element  from  nature  and  the  whole 
frame  of  things  would  dissolve  and  die.  The  golden- 
fretted  roof  of  night  was  stretched  by  an  omnipo- 


168  THOUGHT   AND   THINGS. 

tent  thought ;  the  suns  are  but  points  and  lines  of 
splendid  diagrams ;  the  planets,  beads  rolled  in  the 
grooves  of  law ;  the  beauty  of  nature,  which  so 
.  haunts  and  inspires  the  poet's  soul,  is  the  struggling 
of  matter  with  a  hidden  meaning  which  will  rise  in 
subtile  exhalations  from  its  bonds ;  the  solidity  of 
matter  is  the  continuance  of  a  divine  resolution. 
Everything  we  touch  or  see  is  but  the  shape  and 
color  of  a  mental  force  that  lies  behind.  Let  the 
pleasure  of  the  Almighty  or  his  thought  change, 
and  the  universe  will  instantly,  and  by  necessary 
response,  change  its  order,  hue,  and  form.  The 
things  which  are  seen  are  merely  the  temporal, 
accidental  manifestations  of  secret,  intellectual 
powers,  which  are  unseen  but  eternal. 
Shelley  has  finely  said, — 

"  Earth  and  ocean, 

Space,  and  the  isles  of  life  and  light  that  gem 
The  sapphire  floods  of  interstellar  air, 
This  firmament,  pavilioned  upon  chaos, 
With  all  its  cressets  of  immortal  fire, 
With  all  the  silent  or  tempestuous  workings 
By  which  they  have  been,  are,  or  cease  to"  be, 
Is  but  a  vision ; 

Thought  is  its  cradle  and  its  grave,  nor  less 
The  future  and  the  past  are  idle  shadows 
Of  Thought's  eternal  flight  —  they  have  no  being; 
Nought  is  but  that  it  feels  itself  to  be." 

And  so  in  outward  nature  there  is  but  one  sub- 
stance, God,  —  a  spiritual  force  of  which  all  ap- 
parent being  is  the  emanation  and  form. 

And  history  also  reveals  the  same  law ;  the  work- 
ing and  persistence  of  ideas  and  spiritual  principles 


THOUGHT   AND   THINGS.  169 

behind  the  outward  facts  wliich  strike  the  eye.  If 
we  look  behind  us,  upon  the  nations  that  have  oc- 
cupied and  ruled  the  world,  we  shall  learn  how  im- 
potent are  all  the  material  implements  and  appli- 
ances of  strength,  if  there  be  not  a  groundwork  of 
right  and  ideal  power  as  the  support  of  greatness. 
The  fortunes  of  the  chief  nations  of  the  past  seem 
like  camera  shadows  thrown  upon  the  mists  of  time, 
chasing  each  other  rapidly  across  the  scene,  and 
melting  at  last  into  the  dark.  Nineveh,  Babylon, 
Persia,  Meroe,  Egypt,  Macedon,  none  of  these  ob- 
tained a  rooted  being.  In  history,  they  appear  like 
a  dream.  As  we  read  their  annals  under  the  light 
of  a  chronology  in  which  the  philosophy  of  history 
must  always  be  studied,  and  in  which  centuries  are 
the  hours  of  a  providential  cycle,  they  all  '  come 
like  shadows,  so  depart.'  Physical  power  they 
had,  impregnable  cities,  splendid  palaces,  countless 
weajth,  powerful  armies,  and  yet  there  were  no 
elements  of  permanence  and  firmness.  They  were 
only  massive  forts  thrown  up  in  nature,  but  ungar- 
risoned  by  ideas,  which  the  elements  played  with  as 
they  would.  They  had  no  hidden  moral  and  men- 
tal life,  no  abstract  existence  that  dwelt  in  them 
like  a  guiding  soul.  Not  that  they  were  generated 
by  accident,  without  a  cause ;  but,  like  gigantic 
mushrooms,  they  were  animated  only  by  a  feeble, 
feverish,  quickly-expended  life,  and  therefore  sprang 
up  full-formed  in  a  night,  to  perish  in  a  night.  The 
solemn  political  lesson  to  which  history  points  us, 
written  on  the  tombstones  of  kingdoms  that  are 


170  THOCGHT  AND   THINGS. 

buried  in  the  sands  of  time,  declares  that  truth, 
courage,  genius,  integrity,  temperance,  self-denial, 
all  intangible,  spiritual,  unseen  elements,  are  the 
only  bonds  arid  bulwarks  of  nations.  Where  these 
fail  in  the  mightiest  physical  monarchy,  it  is  like 
severing  the  living,  fibrous  sap-roots  of  a  giant  tree, 
and  drying  the  sap  within  its  bark.  A  blight  will 
fall  upon  it.  The  process  of  decay  will  rapidly  go 
on.  Its  leaves  look  sickly,  its  branches  shrink  and 
wither.  It  can  no  longer  wrestle  proudly  with  the 
storm.  A  passive  subsistence  is  all  that  remains, 
and  it  depends  only  on  the  pleasure  of  God  whether 
it  shall  fall,  crashing  before  the  angry  blast,  and 
uprooted  from  the  soil  of  time,  or  rot  and  moulder 
into  oblivion  by  the  more  silent  and  terrible  visita- 
tion of  the  worm.  It  is  not  by  wealth,  or  walls,  or 
muscles,  that  a  nation  can  intrench  itself  securely, 
but  by  enterprise  devoted  to  some  mental  and  mor- 
al culture,  by  free  absorption  of  the  unseen,  spirit- 
ual elements  of  health  and  vigor.  It  is  not  the  area 
of  political  freedom,  but  the  spirit  of  moral  freedom 
on  which  a  state  can  build  secure.  History  preach- 
es continually  to  understanding  ears  the  phrase, 
"  the  things  that  are  seen  are  temporal  and  transi- 
tory ;  it  is  the  ideal  and  unseen  that  endures." 

Do  we  need  a  more  impressive  revelation  of  the 
fact  that  truth  and  thought  alone  are  permanent, 
than  the  bare  conception  of  the  fortune  of  the  beings 
that  have  inhabited  this  globe  ?  A  thousand  mill- 
ions of  intelligent  forms  now  people  our  planet, 
with  busy  hands  and  scheming  brains.  -While  we, 


THOUGHT   AND   THINGS.  171 

• 

too,  are  active  on  the  scene,  life  seems  something 
quite  secure ;  we  do  not  realize  how  busy  is  the 
scythe  of  death.  Every  fifty  or  sixty  years,  like  a 
vast  array  of  ghosts,  they  flit,  these  myriads,  over 
the  stage  of  life,  almost  with  an  audible  wail  over 
their  unsubstantial  vanity,  and  vanish,  we  know  not 
where.  How  few  from  among  this  spectral  array 
of  our  fellows,  leave  any  record  of  their  being  to 
remain  in  the  memory  of  the  world  ?  And  who 
are  those  few  ?  Not  the  wealthy,  the  haughty,  the 
despots  who  ruled  by  force.  Scarce  one  of  these,  ex- 
cept it  be  for  the  scorn  and  execration  of  posterity. 
Those  who  pass  away  to  leave  behind  an  earthly 
immortality,  are  they  who  brought  into  the  world 
more  of  the  enduring  elements  of  spiritual  power. 
A  Homer,  Shakespeare,  Dante,  Burns,  —  poor,  un- 
titled,  and  obscure,  —  sends  forth  from  a  spirit  fine- 
ly organized,  a  thrill  of  melody,  sweet,  sad,  or  cheer- 
ing, in  response  to  the  experience  that  has  swept 
over  his  heart,  and  the  bodiless  tone  goes  down  the 
ages  when  the  creative  soul  has  fled,  rising  above 
the  noise  of  wars,  the  crash  of  falling  empires,  and 
the  harsh  discord  of  a  conqueror's  fame.  From  the 
mind  of  a  David  or  Isaiah  gushes  a  lyric  psalm  or 
gorgeous  prophecy  of  good  ;  and  those  die  not, 
though  all  traces  of  the  Hebrew  state,  and  the  rich 
pomp  of  the  ceremonial  worship,  the  grand  temple 
structure,  and  the  millions  who  bowed  within  its 
courts,  have  gone  into  a  common  grave.  RafFaelle 
and  Angelo,  during  their  earthly  stay,  caught  gleams 
of  a  more  than  earthly  beauty,  and  left  slight  sketch- 


172  THOUGHT  AND   THINGS. 

,  •. 

es  of  it  in  color  or  in  stone  ;  Mozart  and  Beethoven, 
with  finer  ears,  reported  symphonies  which  had 
never  before  been  published  in  this  grosser  world  ; 
Bacon  and  Newton  pointed  to  the  method,  and  shed 
over  the  race  the  radiance  of  higher  and  sublimer 
truth  ;  Washington  and  Howard  yielded  their  hearts 
to  the  guidance  of  perfect  principle  and  holy  love ; 
and  thus  out  of  the  thousands  of  myriads  of  spirits 
that  are  driven  across  the  stage  of  being  like  snow- 
flakes  before  the  storm,  some  half  a  score  from  every 
century  endure  because  they  have  caught  the  ele- 
ments of  permanence  from  the  ideal  forces  of  nature 
into  which  they  had  baptized  their  souls. 

We  may  draw  some  useful  instruction  from  his- 
tory also,  concerning  the  greater  stability  of  thought 
compared  with  things,  by  observing  how  the  inward 
life  of  every  people  —  its  ideas  and  aspirations  — 
reveal  themselves  in  its  outward  institutions,  and 
create  its  outward  institutions.  Precisely  as  the 
thought  of  God  expresses  itself  in  the  order  of  na- 
ture, in  the  harmonies  of  space,  and  the  plan  and 
parts  of  the  material  universe,  does  the  genius  of  a 
nation  reveal  itself  in  its  government,  its  laws,  its 
schemes  of  conquest,  its  poetry,  its  religion,  its  art. 

"  And  what  if  Trade  sow  cities 
Like  shells  along  the  shore, 
And  thatch  with  towns  the  prairie  broad, 
With  railways  ironed  o'er?  — 
They  are  but  sailing  foam-bells 
Along  Thought's  causing  stream, 
And  take  their  shape  and  sun-color 
From  him  that  sendsthe  dream." 


THOUGHT   AND    THINGS.  173 

The  institutions  of  no  two  nations  are  the  same, 
because  the  intellectual  structure  and  the  prominent 
ideas  of  no  two  nations  are  the  same.  When  the 
historian  observes  the  outward  complexion  and 
forms  of  life  of  different  kingdoms  so  unlike  as  Hin- 
dostan  and  France,  China  and  England,  Greece  and 
Persia,  he  knows  that  it  is  not  by  accident,  but  by 
necessity  ;  he  sees  that  the  superficial  dissimilarity 
is  but  the  sign  of  a  difference  in  the  moral  life  and 
spiritual  structure  of  the  people,  and  he  seeks  to 
know  the  habits,  feelings,  religion,  aims  of  the  na- 
tion ;  because  then  only  can  he  understand  its  true, 
essential  character.  These  visible  forms  are  but  the 
casing  of  ideas,  the  fibrous  wood  and  bark  that  en- 
close the  living  organic  currents  that  flow  within, 
and  from  which  the  case  is  generated.  "  The  things 
which  are  seen  are  temporal."  It  is  from  the  in- 
tangible, permanent,  ideal  elements  that  the  out- 
ward appearances  are  born. 

I  have  often,  in  standing  upon  one  of  the  bridges 
that  connect  the  city  of  my  residence  with  the  me- 
tropolis of  Massachusetts,  and  while  reflecting  Upon 
the  scene  there  presented  to  the  eye,  felt  the  force 
of  the  motto  which  was  written  by  Paul.  A  little 
more  than  two  centuries  ago,  no  foot  of  any  repre- 
sentative of  the  present  possessors  of  the  soil  had 
trod  the  surrounding  shores.  The  river  flowed  in  a 
beautiful,  broad  current  to  the  sea,  unbroken,  except 
by  the  sea-bird's  wing,  or  the  swift,  noiseless  motion 
of  the  picturesque  canoe.  The  stillness  of  prime- 
val nature  rested  in  benediction  over  the  scene. 


174  THOUGHT    AND    THINGS. 

Year  after  year  the  morning  dawned  upon  a  mo- 
notonous landscape,  while  the  setting  sun  gilded 
the  smoke  that  rose  from  humble  cabins,  and  the 
deepening  twilight  gave  a  sombre  gloom  to  groves 
and  forests  that  enclosed  the  homes  of  the  simple, 
unaspiring,  dusky  tenants  of  the  soil.  They  were 
content,  and  nature  remained  undisturbed.  And 
so  it  would  have  remained  .  forever  ;  but  another 
people,  with  a  deeper,  more  creative  inward  life, 
are  directed  to  its  shores ;  and  the  powerless 
natives  melt  in  their  path,  quickly  trodden  down 
into  forgotten  graves.  And  now  see  how  a  magic 
ideal  wand  changes  the  whole  aspect  of  the  picture ! 
Before  their  strong  ideas,  the  forests  fall  as  if  swept 
away  by  a  resistless  flame.  Institution  after  insti- 
tution springs  up  amid  the  solitudes,  to  answer  an 
inward  want  in  the  new  dwellers'  breasts.  Their 
emotions  of  worship  dot  the  scene  with  temples,  each 
consecrated  to  some  slight  difference  in  the  ideas  of 
God  and  Heaven  ;  the  river  is  bridged  by  their  skill ; 
their  enterprise  lines  the  shores  with  masts,  and 
whitens  the  water  with  sails  that  are  to  take  the 
breezes  of  every  sea ;  from  one  summit  looks  down 
the  dome  that  represents  their  justice,  government, 
and  law  ;  from  the  blood-stained  soil  of  another 
shoots  the  shaft  that  bears  witness  to  their  patriotism 
and  heroic  valor  ;  on  a  third  is  set  the  shrine  of 
learning,  where  the  principles  of  freedom  may  be 
perpetuated  in  cultivated  minds  ;  where  the  deer 
roamed  undisturbed,  the  university  springs  forth  in 
obedience  to  an  intellectual  call ;  towns  grow  popu- 


THOUGHT   AND   THINGS.  175 

lous  along  the  track  of  the  steam-car,  the  splendid 
triumph  of  their  restless,  cunning  labor ;  and  from 
a  thousand  points  arise  the  structures  that  proclaim 
the  existence  of  refinement,  health,  luxury,  and  an 
ever-active  Christian  love.  What  an  organic  revela- 
tion is  such  a  panorama  presented  every  day  to  the 
dwellers  in  American  cities,  teaching  the  causal 
power  and  creative  energy  of  ideas,  and  feelings, 
and  faith,  and  aspiration.  These  are  the  permanent 
forces  of  being,  the  substantial  base  of  things.  All 
history  has  been  pliant  to  their  moulding,  leavening 
power.  They  work  in  the  centre  of  empires ;  they 
heave  up  the  embankments  of  social  and  political 
existence  ;  often  they  shake,  with  a  sudden  earth- 
quake throe,  the  rotten  thrones  of  kings  and  the  hol- 
low pillars  of  licentious  palaces  into  ruin  ;  and  at 
times,  when  the  pressure  of  force  and  fraud  and 
falsehood  becomes  too  desperate,  they  burst  through 
some  yawning  revolution,  rend  all  the  strata  of  con- 
ventional resistance,  and  send  forth  a  volcanic,  fiery 
stream  to  overwhelm  the  obstacles  which  have  too 
long  restrained  their  natural  and  peaceful  play. 

The  eternal,  permanent  side  of  nature  is  always 
unseen ;  all  force  is  spiritual ;  causal,  creative,  en- 
during power  resides  only  in  abstract  things  :  in 
truth,  virtue,  emotions,  thought.  When  we  would 
prophesy  in  relation  to  the  prosperity  or  downfall  of 
a  kingdom,  our  calculation  is  always  founded  on  the 
moral  and  intellectual  vigor  that  is  in  it.  This, 
rightly  directed,  will  hold  it  up ;  when  this  begins 
to  fail,  we  know  that  the  nation  begins  to  die. 


176  THOUGHT   AND  THINGS. 

Our  whole  civilization,  too,  is  nothing  but  a  net- 
work of  invisible,  spiritual,  but  most  potent  bonds 
which  preserve  society  from  anarchy.  The  power  of 
law, — what  is  it  but  the  respect  for  law?  Sturdy 
patriotism, — what  is  it  but  personal  love  of  free- 
dom? Refinement  of  manners, — what  is  it  but  a 
practical  feeling  of  the  beauty  of  courtesy  and  the 
dignity  of  man  ?  Social  order  is  built  on  these  sub- 
tile elements.  Should  they  fail,  civilization  itself 
would  crumble. 

The  process  of  reform,  also,  is  nothing  but  an  ex- 
pulsion of  degrading  sentiments  by  the  infusion  of 
a  purer  spirit.  If  the  philanthropist  would  stifle  in- 
temperance, he  must  plainly  inspire  the  popular 
heart  with  a  nobler  self-denial,  or  an  affection  f<5r  a 
higher  than  sensual  gratification.  He  labors  to 
smother  wars.  Could  an  entire  reverence  for  the 
Christian  law  of  life  possess  the  hearts  of  rulers, 
armies  might  be  disbanded,  and  navies  used  for  com- 
merce. He  struggles  against  the  horrible  enormity 
of  slavery.  If  a  divine  miracle  could  but  infuse  a 
proper  sense  of  justice,  a  hearty  recognition  of  the 
fact  of  brotherhood  into  the  South  to  day,  to-mor- 
row's sun  would  not  set  upon  a  single  bondman. 

Wherever  a  higher  idea,  a  worthier  principle  goes 
forth,  it  goes  to  renovate  and  conquer  and  reform. 
And  all  those  events  and  epochs  of  time  that  are  con- 
nected with  the  birth  and  development  of  a  greater 
truth,  are  the  important  epochs,  the  immortal  events. 
The  salient  vital  periods  in  history  have  not  been 
the  times  of  widest  tumult,  —  the  wars  of  Napoleon, 


THOUGHT  AND   THINGS.  177 

the  crusades,  the  great  political  storms,  and  social 
convulsions,  and  temporary  anarchy.  It  is  astonish- 
ing how  soon,  when  no  great  principle  is  involved  in 
them,  when  it  is  mere  brute  struggle,  these  pass 
away  without  a  trace  from  history,  and  leave  the 
surface  calm  again. 

Great  epochs  begin  with  the  birth  of  a  new  truth, 
with  a  new  discovery,  with  the  development  of  a 
higher  character.  When  the  idea  of  the  printing- 
press  dawns  on  a  mechanic's  mind  ;  when  Columbus 
fancies  the  round  shape  of  the  globe  ;  when  Luther 
utters  an  impregnable  principle ;  then  the  fortunes 
of  the  race  are  gently  turned  into  a  different  channel 
by  the  mild  pressure  of  necessity. 

It  is  the  great  conceptions  of  noiseless  birth,  not 
the  rearing  effervescence,  that  change  the  face  of 
things.  "  The  meek,  silent  light  can  mould,  create, 
and  purify  all  nature  ;  but  the  loud  whirlwind,  the 
sign  and  product  of  disunion,  of  weakness,  passes 
on  and  is  forgotten." 

The  most  notable  period  of  the  ages  was  that  when 
a  Galilean  peasant  utteretl  by  the  way-side,  and  in 
humble  homes,  to  artless  listeners,  to  dull  disciples 
and  wondering  ears,  his  simple,  winning  thoughts. 
He  trusted  his  words  to  the  air,  to  the  memory  of 
his  hearers,  to  the  providence  of  God.  He  knew 
they  would  not  die.  Tliey  were  feeble  sounds, 
articulated  in  a  decaying  language,  but  in  no  fact 
seems  his  spirit  greater  than  in  his  serene  confidence 
that  they  could  not  die.  "  Heaven  and  earth,"  said 
he,  "  shall  pass  away,  but  my  words  shall  not  pass 
12 


178  THOUGHT   AND   THINGS. 

away."  What  a  calm  statement  is  this  of  the  supe- 
rior permanence  of  a  fleeting  thought,  if  it  be  a  truth, 
over  all  material  nature.  No,  they  have  not  passed 
away.  They  are  still  stronger  than  all  the  resistance 
of  the  world.  They  are  the  chart  of  life,  the  cement 
of  society,  the  pillars  of  our  welfare,  the  hope  of  the 
race. 

If  we  study  life  aright,  we  shall  never  sneer  at 
abstractions  —  at  speculative  or  ideal  principles  — 
as  visionary  and  unreal.  If  they  are  false,  they  are 
unsubstantial  as  the  coruscations  in  the  northern 
sky.  If  true,  they  are  permanent,  —  omnipotent  as 
God.  "  Solid  as  a  rock,"  is  a  common  proverb 
among  men ;  a  more  expressive  sentiment  would 
be  "  solid  as  truth,"  "  impregnable  as  principle," 
"  resistless  as  right." 

These  thoughts  are  religious  teachers.  If  it  is 
ideal  and  mental  forces  only  that  are  permanent, 
then  the  spirit  within  us,  when  rightly  educated,  is 
the  most  substantial  fact  in  nature.  If  rightly 
educated,  for  the  lesson  which  our  subject  teaches  is, 
that  there  is  just  so  muclt  substance  to  us  as  there  is 
truth,  virtue,  spiritual  life  within.  The  soul  is  ideal; 
all  there  is  of  us  is  ideal.  A  man  may  have  as  much 
soul  as  he  pleases.  By  culture  and  discipline  it  will 
grow  as  the  muscles  harden  and  the  flesh  grows  firm 
by  healthful  food  and  exercise.  And  Justin  propor- 
tion as  he  believes  in  the  permanence  of  ideal  things, 
and  endeavors  to  build  an  inward  temple  of  them, 
does  he  become  a  solid  fact,  a  stubborn  something 
among  these  transitory  shadows.  If  he  neglects  this 


THOUGHT  AND   THINGS.  179 

work  he  is  a  ghost,  an  airy  apparition,  long  before 
he  dies.  The  world  is  filled  with  these  spectral  men, 
with  lean,  lank,  hazy  spirits,  which  have  become  thin 
and  unsubstantial  by  neglect.  We  see  it  in  the 
common  aims  of  life,  in  the  kind  of  ambition  that 
fires  the  popular  heant,  in  the  temper  of  the  market, 
the  etiquette  of  the  exchange,  and  the  morality  of 
the  crowd  and  the  Congress  hall.  The  all-engross- 
ing care  of  the  body,  the  absorbing  desire  of  wealth, 
the  craving  for  a  life  of  easy  and  superficial  show, 
the  sensualism  entrenched  behind  every  phase  of 
society,  betray  the  fact  that  we  are  animated  bodies 
only,  that  we  have  little  faith  in  the  greatness  of  in- 
ward sentiments,  in  the  wealth  of  cultivated  affec- 
tions, in  the  bliss  of  devotion  and  self-sacrifice. 

Men  feel  and  know  that  pain  is  a  fact,  although 
it  is  unseen ;  they  need  to  learn  that  peace  of  mind 
is  a  fact,  and  comes  by  a  well-ordered  soul ;  that 
reverence  is  a  fact,  and  brings  us  near  to  God ;  that 
elevated  sentiment  is  a  fact,  and  raises  us  into  a 
higher  society  than  earth ;  that  sober  faith  is  a  fact, 
and  gilds  the  horizon  of  our  being  with  a  heavenly 
glory.  In  the  absence  of  this  faith  we  read  the 
barrenness  of  soul  there  is  in  the  world. 

We  read  it  too  hi  the  prevailing,  lurking,  practical 
scepticism  in  immortality,  a  scepticism  that  "  haunts 
with  fiend-like  stare  the  uplifted  eye  of  faith  and 
love."  I  do  not  wonder  at  this  scepticism.  The 
body  weighs  us. down  ;  we  are  contented  prisoners  in 
it ;  we  forget  our  native  realm,  and  so  easily  believe 
that  the  grave  is  the  goal. 


180  THOUGHT   AND   THINGS. 

Every  argument  for  immortality  that  can  be 
brought  is  of  little  avail ;  even  the  resurrection  of 
Christ  is  a  wonderful  story  merely,  to  a  thorough 
sensualist  whose  aspirations  have  never  reached  be- 
yond pleasure  and  the  present,  —  whose  meditations, 
sent  forth  like  doves  from  the  floating  ark  of  life, 
have  never  brought  back  a  green  and  budding  prom- 
ise of  that  solid  land.  To  feel  a  conviction  of  im- 
mortality we  must  live  for  it.  Let  any  one  firmly 
believe  that  the  soul  is  permanent,  and  live  from 
that  belief,  and  soon  existence  will  seem  permanent 
too  ;  the  world  becomes  the  veil  of  a  brighter  glory 
that  lies  behind  it ;  the  condemnation  of  unbelief  is 
lifted  off,  since  the  mind,  conscious  of  its  own  rooted 
being,  does  not  wait  for  immortality,  "  but  is  passed 
from  death  unto  life." 


VII. 
TRUE    GREATNESS. 


IT  is  recorded  by  Matthew  that  the  disciples 
once  went  to  Jesus  with  the  question,  —  "  Who  is 
the  greatest  in  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  ?  "  and  to- 
day the  world  needs  to  be  enlightened  in  regard  to- 
the  elements  of  true  greatness.  Greatness  may  be 
predicated  of  mental  or  moral  qualities.  A  man 
may  be  great  because  of  natural  abilities,  or  on  ac- 
count of  vast  acquirements.  There  is  the  greatness 
of  gifts,  and  of  energy  ;  of  splendid  genius,  and  of 
ardent  faithfulness. 

If  we  ask  who  is  the  greatest  as  &  poet,  one  an- 
swer will  be  appropriate  !  It  is  he  who  has  easiest 
access  to  the  richest  treasures  of  imagination,  whose 
perception  of  beauty  is  keen,  and  who  knows  how 
to  entrance  the  human  heart  by  the  magic  of  his 
creations,  and  the  music  of  his  lines.  Do  we  in- 
quire who  is  greatest  as  a  preacher  ?  The  defi- 
nition should  be,  he  who  can  enlighten  most  clearly 
the  minds  of  men  in  regard  to  duty,  thrill  them 
with  a  conviction  of  responsibility,  and  draw  them 
by  the  sweetest  persuasion  to  the  love  of  God  and 
to  purity  of  life.  Would  we  know  who  is  greatest 
as  a  statesman  ?  Evidently,  he  whose  mind  is  broad 

181 


182  .        TRUE  GREATNESS. 

enough  to  comprehend  great  interests, — the  struct- 
ure of  society  and  governments,  and  the  precise 
bearing  of  projected  measures  upon  the  welfare 
and  glory  of  a  whole  nation  ;  while  his  mental  re- 
sources, vigor  of  will,  and  suppleness  of  temper,- 
are  equal  to  the  necessities,  perplexities,  and  dan- 
gers of  any  crisis  in  the  State.  Who  is  greatest  as 
a  farmer  ?  He  who  has  complete  mastery  over  the 
tractable  elements  of  nature.  Who  as  a  mechanic  ? 
The  man  of  most  cunning  brain  and  responsive 
hand. 

But  these  are  only  fragmentary  answers  to  the 
question  we  are  considering.  We  do  not  ask  who 
is  chief  or  preeminent  among  different  kinds  of 
men,  but,  who  is  the  greatest  man,?  What  is  cen- 
tral or  total  greatness  of  soul?  The  answer,  of 
course,  depends  upon  the  standard  which  rules  our 
judgment. 

There  is  the.  world's  standard,  which  has  always 
been  partial.  Its  test  has  been  power,  influence, 
splendid  abilities,  worldly  success.  It  has  judged 
the  claims  and  capacities  of  men  by  the  mental 
qualities  they  possess,  and  the  force  of  these  quali- 
ties has  been  gauged  by  the  outward  and  dazzling 
results  which  they  have  wrought,  without  any  ref- 
erence to  the  inward  mastery  of  those  qualities, 
and  their  stern  subordination  to  a  noble  aim. 

Strictly  speaking,  the  world  has  never  had  any 
idea,  or  complete  ideal,  of  a  great  man.  Its  only 
estimate  of  greatness  is  the  possession  of  conspic- 
uous qualities.  Its  great  men  have  been  great  in- 


TEUE  GEEATNESS.  *    183 

struinents  merely,  and  their  relative  rank  has  been 
determined  by  their  comparative  efficiency  for  cer- 
tain visible  ends.  If  a  person  exhibits  some  one 
quality  in  sufficient  brilliancy  to  throw  that  qual- 
ity of  others  in  the  shade,  the  world  immediately 
awards  the  palm  of  greatness.  In  its  vocabulary 
the  term  great  is  merely  the  equivalent  of  noticea- 
ble. Hence  the  heroes  of  the  world  are  the  most 
remarkable  warriors,  artists,  poets,  statesmen,  law- 
yers, etc., —  those  who  can  most  easily  win  a  battle, 
carve  a  statue,  write  a  drama,  control  a  kingdom, 
and  save  a  desperate  cause.  Now  this  is  just  the 
method  to  gauge  the  force  and  degree  of  special 
qualities,  and  therefore,  the  list  and  rank  of  the 
chief  poets,  warriors,  scholars,  etc.,  of  the  world 
need  little  revision.  But  there  is  a  vast  difference 
between  a  conspicuous  quality  and  a  great  man. 
Alexander  was  an  organized  military  quality,  but 
he  was  not  a  great  man.  Byron  was  a  brilliant 
poetic  faculty,  but  not  a  great  man.  Lord  Bacon 
was  a  consummate  intellectual  energy,  but  not  a 
great  man. 

We  cannot  construct  a  complete  definition  of 
greatness  without  including  a  moral  and  spiritual 
element.  The  chief  characteristic  of  man  is,  that 
he  has  a  soul,  and  possesses  privileges  and  incurs 
responsibilities  by  reason  of  this  endowment.  And 
if  the  soul  be  the  distinguishing  trait  of  manhood, 
the  exercise  of  the  privileges  and  recognition  of  the 
responsibilities  which  this  trait  imposes  and  bestows 
must  be  at  least  one  part,  if  not  the  chief  part,  of 


184    «•  TRUE 'GREATNESS. 

the  constitution  of  true  manliness.  To  leave  these 
out  of  the  estimate  is  to  slight  the  noblest  gift  and 
function  of  humanity,  in  a  description  of  humanity 
in  its  highest  form.  The  comprehensive  definition 
of  greatness  should  be,  —  the  highest  exercise  of  all 
our  powers  in  their  true  order  and  harmony.  ,  He 
is  the  greatest  man  who  is  most  of  a  man,  and 
he  is  the  most  of  a  man  who  faithfully  cultivates  in 
due  proportion  all  the  distinctive  qualities  and  force 
of  his  being.  A  great  man,  therefore,  is  not  one 
prodigious  element,  which  acts  as  a  single  instru- 
ment, but  a  concordant  congress  of  powers,  all 
working  with  a  composite  unity  to  a  noble  end. 
And  so  we  must  look  in  at  his  hidden  life,  as  well 
as  outward  at  his  special  work,  to  test  the  merits  of 
a  man. 

It  is  an  indispensable  requisite  to  true  and  total 
greatness,  then,  that  a  clear  and  accurate  perception 
of  the  real  aim  of  life  be  present  to  the  mind,  and 
that  all  the  faculties  bend  steadily  and  strongly  to 
the  attainment  of  it.  And  here  a  religious  element 
is  directly  involved.  For  it  is  the  province  of  relig- 
ion to  introduce  a  supreme,  disposing  element  into 
the  heart.  Greatness  as  a  man  is  impossible  till 
this  supreme  principle  is  recognized  as  an  idea, 
and  when  it  has  been  recognized,  greatness  is  impos- 
sible till  whatever  genius  or  talent  or  endowment 
we  have  obeys  it,  and  becomes  its  minister.  "  The 
faculties  and  affections  of  the  single  mind  are  no 
democracy  of  principles,  each  of  which  in  the  de- 
terminations of  the  will  is  to  have  equal  suffrage 


TRUE   GBEATNESS.  185 

with  the  rest,  but  an  orderly  series,  in  which  every 
member  has  a  right  divine  over  that  below." 
"  Greater  is  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit  than  he  that 
taketh  a  city."  The  great  man's  soul  is  a  "  realm 
of  order."  The  will  drives  all  the  faculties  in  har- 
ness towards  a  changeless  -goal.  He  rules,  and  is 
not  ruled  by  his  genius.  The  whole  man  will  not 
be  a  mere  lever  to  work  some  peculiar  quality.  If 
he  feels  the  ability  to  be  artist,  poet,  statesman, 
scholar,  he  will  not  let  his  special  ability  run  away 
with  him,  and  present  itself  as  the  whole  business 
of  life,  nor  exhaust  the  energies  of  his  nature,  but 
will  keep  it  in  strict  subjection  and  easy  service  to 
the  supreme  end.  Relatively  to  each  other,  those 
men  seem  great  who  dazzle  the  sight,  and  attract 
most  notice.  Content  with  seeing  the  glare,  we  do 
not  think  to  inquire  how  strong  and  productive  is 
their  dominion  over  their  gifts,  and  how  proportion- 
able is  the  development  of  their  being.  We  are  all 
only  partially  developed,  and  can  hardly  appreciate 
wholeness  of  manhood,  and  so  he  who  is  most  brill- 
iantly partial  carries  the  day.  But  in  the  view  of 
God,  before  whose  infinite  reason  the  distinctions 
of  mere  human  genius  are  of  no  account,  greatness 
is  measured  by  a  proper  standard,  and  means  the 
dedication  of  the  whole  nature  to  the  service  of 
right,  and  the  harmonious  labor  of  all  the  powers 
to  make  that  service  valuable.  The  men  whom 
this  test  brings  out  from  the  background  of  human 
life,  form  the  class  of  great  men  of  the  world,  be- 
cause there  is  most  of  merit  and  most  of  man  in 


186  TRUE  GREATNESS. 

them.  He  who  is  preeminent  in  this  class,  is  "  the 
greatest  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven." 

It  may  be  objected  that,  by  the  definition  we  have 
given,  greatness  is  reduced  to  mere  goodness,  since 
genius,  brilliant  properties,  and  strong  powers  are 
left  entirely  out  of  the  account.  If  it  were  so,  the 
definition  would  be  fatally  partial.  What  we  wish 
to  establish  is,  that  greatness  is  something  distinct 
from  mere  brilliancy  and  power,  and  embraces  the 
idea  of  inward  self-rule,  faithfulness,  and  spiritual 
culture.  A  man  may  be  remarkable  for  brilliancy, 
and  eminent  for  power,  but  if  he  merely  displays 
these  qualities  without  any  inward  order  of  spiritual 
life,  an  order  generated  by  a  faithful  will, — if  his 
eminence  consists  solely  in  the  possession  of  these 
qualities  and  their  natural  play;  if  they  be  not 
constituent  parts  of  a  proportional  breadth  of  char- 
acter, and  are  not  used  as  implements  of  a  com- 
manding sentiment  enthroned  in  the  soul,  —  that 
man  is  only  an  exaggerated  faculty ;  he  is  not  truly 
great.  This  is  a  necessary  result  from  the  principles 
of  Christianity. 

But  it  by  no  means  follows  that  all  good  men  are 
equally  great.  There  is  room  for  all  differences  and 
degrees  of  greatness  in  Christianity.  It  puts  no 
iron  rule  upon  human  nature.  It  is  not  a  levelling 
system.  It  is  generally  supposed  to  be  so,  but  it  is 
a  pernicious  misapprehension  of  the  gospel  to  sup- 
pose so.  We  often  talk  as  though  the  unlearned 
Christian,  the  humble  and  faithful  widow,  and  the 
exalted  sage,  are  on  the  same  level  iu  the  school  of 


TRUE   GREATNESS.  187 

Jesus.  We  must  not  think  so.  If  they  are  equally 
Christian,  the  spirit  of  their  greatness  is  the  same, 
but  its  degree  varies  with  the  richness  of  their  gifts. 
"  One  star  diflereth  from  another  star  in  glory." 
Though  genius  alone  is  not  greatness,  but  only  good 
fortune,  the  greatest  genius  can  still  be  the  greatest 
in  Christianity,  and  keep  its  natural  bent.  The 
hasty,  passionate  Peter,  the  blunt,  plain-spoken 
James,  the  mild  and  loving  John,  preserved  their 
individuality  uninjured  by  their  devotion  to  Chris- 
tianity. One  found  a  sphere  for  his  impetuosity, 
another  for  his  calm,  reflective  powers,  and  John  for 
his  serene  insight  and  sweet  meditations  in  the  ser- 
vice of  Christ,  and  they  were  his  three  chosen  friends. 
Each  was  great;  he  was  greatest  whose  genius 
blended  most  beautifully  with  his  character,  and 
who  had  the  most  genius  to  use  in  his  Master's 
cause. 

Goodness  can  employ  far-reaching  thought,  in- 
tense ambition,  vigorous  will,  and  splendid  abilities 
of  every  kind.  They  are  its  natural  allies ;  it  needs 
them  all.  There  is  no  reason  why  a  great  poet 
should  not  be  the  greater,  if  he  be  a  Christian,  and 
because  he  is  a  poet.  He  may  make  his  taste  for 
beauty  subservient  to  culture  of  character ;  it  may 
become,  besides  refinement  of  perception,  refinement 
of  virtue  ;  and  his  genius  may  not  only  help  him  to 
appreciate  the  works,  but  to  serve  the  will,  of  God. 
It  has  been  the  curse  of  poets  that  they  have  wor- 
shipped their  poetic  faculty,  have  considered  it  their 
chief  distinction,  have  been  slaves  to  it,  and  suffered 


188  TRUE   GREATNESS. 

its  development  to  be  lawless  and  wild,  if  only  it 
could  be  brilliant.  For  this  reason,  so  much  of  our 
finest  poetry  is  cold,  barren,  or  licentious.  It  has 
come  imcousecrated  from  men  who  have  recognized 
no  orbit  to  their  career,  who  have  not  sought  to 
make  their  poetic  power  'one  element  of  a  grand 
and  healthy  life,  who  have  not  felt  their  responsibil- 
ities for  genius,  and  put  no  rein  upon  it,  but  have 
prostituted  faculties  given  to  be  the  allies  of  heaven, 
to  the  service  of  hell.  What  sight  more  sickening 
or  painful  than  splendid  gifts  unregulated  by  prin- 
ciple, or  sold  to  the  profane  and  willing  service  of 
iniquity.  It  is  time  that  the  deeper  insight  of  the 
world  made  a  distinction  between  showy  qualities 
and  greatness  of  soul.  Let  us  look  more  for  a  com- 
plete development  of  manhood,  in  those  so  bounte- 
ously endowed,  and  not  praise  the  beauty  of  the 
mermaid's  face,  while  we  say  nothing  of  the  mon- 
strous, disgusting  shape  from  which  it  grows.  Let 
genius  be  tried  before  the  full  bench  of  human 
faculties,  for  its  manhood  as  well  as  its  intellect. 
Genius  should  be  the  adjective,  and  character  the 
noun  that  describes  men.  When  Byron's  brow  is 
honored  with  the  richest  wreatli  as  a  testimony  of 
his  poetic  powers,  let  him  be  branded  as  a  spiritual 
dwarf.  There  is  110  reason  why  genius  should  lose 
any  of  its  inspiration,  because  it  is  the  minister  of 
goodness  and  of  God.  Must  the  inventive  mechanic 
prove  his  skill  by  the  construction  of  infernal  ma- 
chines ?  Literature  shall  vindicate  itself  before  the 
moral  sense  when  its  great  high  priest  shall  come,  — 


TRUE  GREATNESS.  189 

he  who  shall  disdain  to  seek  the  inspiration  of  in- 
temperance, or  gild  the  rottenness  of  profligacy, 
and  whose  praises  of  virtue  shall  be  dictated  by  the 
glowing  experience  of  his  heart.  Nay,  has  it  not 
been  already  shown  that  vast  acquirements  and 
gorgeous  abilities  are  not  cramped  by  the  control  of 
integrity,  purity,  and  truth  ?  The  world  has  seen 
6ne  spectacle  of  brilliant  and  solid  powers  incorpo- 
rated into  vigorous  character.  It  was  in  the  case 
of  Milton,  who  considered  all  his  powers  mortgaged 
to  the  support  of  freedom  and  right, — Milton, 
whose  youth  was  spotless,  whose  pen,  in  the  full  fire 
of  his  fancy,  never  soiled  a  page  with  a  licentious 
line,  whose  virtue  was  beyond  temptation,  as  his 
genius  was  without  a  mate,  the  prime  of  whose 
years  was  devoted  to  the  service  of  his  districted 
country,  and  his  hours  of  age,  neglect,  and  blind- 
ness given  to  the  composition  of  his  lofty  poem, 
and  who,  after  a  most  checkered  life,  all  spent  "  as 
ever  in  his  great  Taskmaster's  eye,"  died  in  poverty 
and  worldly  disgrace,  leaving  to  his  country  the 
glory  of  his  unappreciated  greatness,  and  to  poster- 
ity the  assurance,  not  merely  of  a  poet  and  a  politi- 
cian, but  of  a  Christian  and  a  man. 

So  should  it  be  with  genius,  whatever  may  be  its 
field.  Whether  the  opportunity  of  service  in  public 
life  is  afforded  or  denied,  be  its  possessor,  artist,  his- 
torian, novelist,  pleader,  he  may  rule  his  faculties, 
may  make  them  the  ministers  to  goodness,  the  cause 
of  God  and  man,  and  thus  earn  the  meed  of  great- 


190  TRUE   GKEATNESS. 

ness,  by  the  self-development  of  his  powers  in  their 
proper  order  and  natural  proportion. 

A  statesman  needs  forfeit  none  of  his  reputation 
for  great  abilities  by  being  a  Christian.  •  In  fact,  if 
he  has  ixot  Christian  principles, — if  his  integrity, 
his  purity,  and  the  establishment  of  the  right,  bo 
not  the  highest  aim  with  him,  to  which  his  abilities 
are  made  to  bend,  he  may  become  celebrated  as  an 
insidious,  wiljr  politician,  but  he-  cannot  be  honored 
as  a  great  man.  If  anything  could  justify  misan- 
thropy, it  would  be  the  spectacle  of  the  intellectual 
grandeur  set  off  against  the  moral  hollowness  and 
barrenness  of  life  in  those  who  have  ruled  the  world. 
Who  can  read  the  shameful  annals  of  diplomacy,  or 
look  in  upon  the  trickery  of  council-rooms,  or  mark 
the  relations  between  the  highest  dignitaries  of  the 
earth,  or  observe  the  under-current  of  private  jeal- 
ousies, malignant  motives,  selfish  expectations,  that 
seem  to  guide  the  stream  of  national  affairs,  or  gaze 
upon  the  solemn  foppery  of  courts  and  palaces,  and 
repress  with  ease  the  rising  sneer  at  the  meanness 
and  depravity  of  our  kind  ?  If  this  be  the  height, 
and  such  be  the  haunts,  of  greatness  and  power, 
where  virtue,  honor,  friendship,  and  the  highest 
interests  of  life  are  slighted,  perilled,  shipwrecked 
for  forms,  ambition,  pleasure,  self,  who  can  help 
questioning  whether  it  is  right  for  the  Almighty  any 
longer  "to  glut  the  innocent  space"  with  so  poor  an 
article  as  man  ?  This  is  not  greatness.  We  abuse 
the  word  when  we  apply  it  to  such  characters. 
Would  that  we  could  see  a  Christian  statesman, — 


TRUE  GREATNESS.  191 

one  who  could  feel  his  humility  and  obligations 
rather  than  his  human  station  and  his  gifts,  and 
who  would  sit  in  the  cabinet  as  in  the  presence  of- 
conscience  and  God.  What  a  display  of  greatness 
would  such  a  spectacle  present !  The  wide  theatre 
of  his  action,  and  the  great  interests  with  which  he 
dealt,  would  seem  to  be  the  natural  field  and  proper 
work  for  the  exercise  and  grasp  of  such  a  soul.  He 
would  not  look  like  a  pigmy  on  a  tower,  but,  like 
the  lofty  pedestal  of  a  colossal  statue,  his  place 
would  be  the  fitting  setting  of  his  powers.  His  judg- 
ment would  not  be  prepledged,  nor  his  opinions 
pawned  to  party,  but  with  religious  accuracy  they 
would  be  formed  and  swayed  by  right  and  evidence 
alone.  The  mind  of  such  a  man,  spurning  the  nar- 
row track  of  ordinary  legislation,  and  fired  by  the 
generous  hopes  of  a  Christian  heart,  would  be  filled 
with  noble  constructive  schemes  for  the  elevation  of 
his  fellows,  and  a  better  progressive  organization  of 
the  social  world.  His  sense  of  right  could  make  no 
distinction  between  public  criminality  and  private 
turpitude.  The  light  of  heaven  would  fall  on  his 
state-papers,  and  make  a  falsehood  of  the  pen,  or  a 
trickery  of  phrase,  as  black  and  heinous  as  a  false- 
hood of  speech,  and  a  paltering  in  words.  He  would 
shrink  from  war  as  from  the  encouragement  of  pri- 
vate murder,  and  would  feel  that  national  honor 
could  never  be  compromised  in  shunning  it,  till  it 
became  the  only  method  of  vindicating  a  vital  prin- 
ciple, or  a  present  necessity  of  self-defenca.  Pas- 
sion, feeling,  interest,  would  never  dare  profane  the 


192  TRUE  GREATNESS. 

sacred  shrine  of  conscience  by  their  treacherous 
counsels,  but  intellect,  energy,  ambition  —  all  the 
resources  of  brain  and  breast — would  be  consecrat- 
ed to  the  duties  of  his  position,  the  service  of  God 
and  man.  Could  not  Napoleon  have  found  free 
scope  for  his  Titanic  powers  on  the  field  of  Euro- 
pean politics,  if  he  had  been  a  Christian  statesman  ? 
Could  he  not  have  applied  his  Herculean  energy  to 
the  work  of  human  melioration,  and  proved  a  genius 
equally  vast,  yes,  infinitely  more  grand,  by  pledging 
his  abilities  to  the  service  of  right,  and  sweeping 
away  from  Europe  its  rotten  tyrannies  only  to  or- 
ganize a  deeper  justice  and  establish  a  healthier 
freedorn  ?  Would  not  his  work,  instead  of  fading 
away  like  the  smoke  of  his  artillery,  have  acquired 
the  perpetuity  of  truth,  and  his  name  have  become 
immortal  as  the  giant  benefactor,  rather  than  the 
disturber  of  mankind  ?  An  approach  to  this  ideal 
our  own  country  saw  in  the  character  of  Washing- 
ton, and  perhaps  again  in  the  political  patriarch 
whom  our  own  State  still  deplores.  And  wherever 
exhibited,  such  is  true  greatness  ;  it  is  devotion  of 
vast  abilities  to  proper  ends  ;  it  is  such  culture  of 
soul  that  total  manliness,  while  it  is  aided  by,  yet 
envelops  and  governs  genius. 

Let  us  banish  the  thought,  then,  that  Christianity 
has  brought  a  lower  standard  of  greatness,  or  has 
banished  its  degrees.  We  must  beware,  too,  lest 
we  enthrone  some  one  quality,  such  as  charity,  pu- 
rity, meekness,  as  the  Christian  measure  of  its  exist- 
ence in  the  soul.  It  is  not  a  quality,  but  the  righi 


TRUE  GREATNESS.  193 

development  of  thi  whole  nature,  and  its  consecra- 
tion to  the  holy,  pure,  and  true. 

God  demands  not  only  purity,  but  greatness  of 
us  all.  There  is  not  a  person  so  humble  or  so  fee- 
bly gifted  that  the  call  is  not  to  him  or  her.  If  we 
have  few  qualities  that  can  influence,  and  but  a 
narrow  sphere  to  fill,  still  we  have  ourselves  to  de- 
velop, and  ourselves  to  rule.  We  have  the  inward 
realm  lo  put  in  order,  so  that,  whatever  we  do,  be 
it  never  so  humble  a  deed,  shall  be  an  instrument 
to  limit  the  evil  of  the  world,  and  advance  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  among  men.  And  when  the  feel- 
ings, thoughts,  and  powers  of  the  least  gifted  soul 
by  private  faithfulness  are  thus  attuned  to  concord- 
ant action  for  right  and  truth,  the  conditions  of 
greatness  and  the  call  of  God  are  answered.  And 
then,  let  us  not  be  sceptical  as  to  our  value  in  the 
universe.  .  Such  greatness  will  be  felt.  It  will 
reach  some  soul.  It  will  preach  to  some  charmed 
auditor.  In  the  press  and  throng  of  life,  though  it 
be  unassuming  and  obscure,  virtue  will  go  out  from 
it,  as  from  the  hem  of  Jesus'  robe,  to  heal  some 
fraction  of  the  world's  disease. 

13 


VIII. 

INDIRECT  INFLUENCES. 


THE  objects  of  the  physical  world  continually 
exert  indirect  influences  upon  each  other.  Each 
tree,  shrub,  flower,  and  spire  of  grass  reacts  upon 
the  quality  of  the  air,  and  in  that  way  affects  other 
trees  and  flowers,  and  thus,  finally,  the  health  of 
animals,  and  of  the  men  and  women  of  the  globe. 
The  carbonic  acid  with  which  our  breathing  floods 
the  atmosphere,  to-morrow  will  be  speeding  north 
and  south,  and  striving  to  make  the  tour  of.,  the 
world.  The  date-trees  that  grow  round  the  foun- 
tains of  the  Nile  will  drink  it  in  by  their  leaves ; 
the  cedars  of  Lebanon  will  take  it  up  to  add  to  their 
stature ;  the  cocoanuts  of  Tahiti  will  grow  riper 
upon  it;  and  the  palms  and  bananas  of  Japan 
change  it  into  flowers.  The  oxygen  we  are  now 
breathing  was,  in  part,  distilled  for  us,  some  short 
time  ago,  by  the  magnolias  of  the  South,  and  the 
roses  and  myrtles  of  Cashmere ;  and,  in  part,  for- 
ests older  than  the  flood  supplied  it. 

Every  particle  of  matter,  by  reason  of  the  various 
laws  of  mechanical  and  chemical  influences,  exerts 
unseen  and  undetected  influences  upon  other  par- 
ticles. The  smallest  planet,  or  satellite,  in  the  solar 

104 


INDIRECT  INFLUENCES.  195 

system  has  some  effect  upon  the  orbit  and  motion  of 
huge  Jupiter  and  far-distant  Neptune  ;  and  so  nice 
is  the  adjustment  of  the  celestial  forces,  that,  if 
these  indirect  and  humble  services  of  the  lesser 
orbs  should  be  lost  from  the  mechanism,  the  poise 
of  the  system  would  be  disturbed,  and  the  motions 
that  now  produce  such  beneficent  harmony,  would 
drift  towards  wreck  and  ruin.  The  physical  order, 
stability,  and  beneficence  we  behold,  are  not  the 
result  of  a  few  glaring  and  easily-comprehended 
arrangements,  but  the  products  of  a  myriad  indirect 
contributions  and  intricate  influences,  which  deep 
and  patient  study  discloses  to  the  scientific  mind. 

In  the  structure  of  society,  also,  the  most  power- 
ful agencies  for  good  are  indirect,  afld  seldom  con- 
sciously recognized.  What  a  complex  thing  is  that 
which  we  call  civilization  !  Of  how  many  delicate 
and  different  influences  is  it  compounded  !  There 
are  times  when  we  are  able  to  see,  for  an  instant, 
what  terrible  passions  smoulder  in  the  bosom  of  our 
Christian  society,  what  savage  feelings  can  be  started 
beneath  the  placid  order  of  common  life,  and  how 
coarse  the  temper  and  moral  sensibility  of  large 
portions  of  our  community  really  are.  And  yet 
all  this  'is  generally  restrained  from  destructive 
fury  by  subtile  influences  which  are  intertwined 
so  skilfully,  that  the  whole  strength  and  pressure  of 
them  are  no  more  seen  than  we  see  the  power  and 
momentum  of  the  wind.  The  fierce  elements  of 
human  nature  are  controlled  by  civilization,,  as  a 
lion  is  entrapped  by  a  net, — each  line  of  which  is 


196  INDIRECT  INFLUENCES. 

but  a  straw  in .f  comparison  with  his  strength,  but 
whose  knots  and  meshes  bind  every  muscle,  and 
entangle  his  feet,  and  distract  his  energy,  so  that 
his  vigor  is  soon  exhausted,  and  he  is  no  longer  a 
dangerous  foe.  The  best  government  is  that  which 
seems  to  govern  least ;  whose  power  and  motives  and 
control  reach  us  indirectly,  and  press  upon  us  as 
steadily  and  unconsciously  as  the  weight  of  the  air. 

That  which  we  call  the  power  of  conservatism  in 
society,  and  which  gives  permanence  and  force  to  all 
institutions, — to  many  that  are  bad, — is  an  indirect 
power.  All  institutions  and  customs  have  many 
and  wide  relations  with  the  feelings,  habits,  and 
hearts  of  the  people  among  whom  they  exist.  They 
throw  out  nil?  tendrils  into  the  soil  of  the  senti- 
ments, which  we  do  not  like  to  have  disturbed. 
And  hence  it  is  that,  after  the  upper  leaves  of  some 
great  institution  have  begun  to  die,  and  its  trunk 
has  rotted,  and  it  is  seen  by  the  sharpest  eyes  to  be 
a  cumberer  of  the  ground,  —  and  even  after  the 
storm  has  madly  despoiled  it,  and  the  hot  bolt  of 
intellectual  indignation  has  smitten  and  shivered  it, 
—  it  will  stand  in  some  semblance  of  worth  and 
majesty,  because  of  the  unseen  and  indirect  sup- 
port that  is  yet  afforded  from  the  tap-roots  that 
strike  down  into  the  subsoil  of  feeling,  and  the 
fiLres  that  are  twisted  in  some  corners  of  the  social 
heart. 

So  much  for  the  broad  law,  and  the  general  man- 
ifesta^ons  of  it.  Let  us  notice,  next,  some  of  the 
indirect  influences  which,  as  individuals,  we  are 


INDIRECT  INFLUENCES.  197 

continually  receiving  from  society,  and  from  our 
companions  and  friends.  We  cannot  tell  how  much 
we  derive  in  this  way.  A  great  part  of  what  we 
know  and  of  what  we  learn  of  our  opinions  and 
general  views  —  the  tone  of  our  judgments,  etc. — 
coin.es  to  us  and  is  formed  through  the  spontaneous 
action  of  our  faculties  upon  the  materials  thrown  in 
our  way,  and  the  experience  which  the  world  forces 
upon  us,  rather  than  by  the  deliberate  reflection  and 
intentional  activity  of  the  intellect.  We  are  but 
slightly  conscious,  at  the  time,  of  the  complicated 
influences  that  surround  us,  the  various  motives 
that  besiege  us,  or  impel  us,  and  the  diverse  materi- 
als that  help  to  build  up  and  draw  out  our  charac- 
ters. Society  is  continually  acting  upon  us,  not 
only  through  our  voluntary  absorption,  but  through 
all  the  pores  of  our  spiritual  nature. 

Past  ages  have  an  indirect  effect  upon  us,  through 
the  institutions  they  have  bequeathed  and  the  gen- 
eral spirit  of  the  civilization  they  have  helped  to 
form.  The  author  of  "  Euthanasy  "  and  "  Mar- 
tyria  "  has  finely  and  truly  said, "  In  my  character 
there  are  the  effects  of  Paul's  journey  to  Damascus, 
and  of  the  meeting  of  King  John  and  the  barons  at 
Rtmnymede.  There  is  hi  my  soul  the  seriousness 
of  the  many  conflicts,  famines,  and  pestilences  of 
early  English  times.  And  of  my  enthusiasm,  some 
of  the  warmth  is  from  fiery  words  which  my  fore- 
fathers thrilled  to,  in  the  times  of  the  Common- 
wealth and  of  the  Reformation.  There  is  in  me 
what  has  come  of  the  tenderness  with  which  moth- 


198  INDIKECT  INFLUENCES. 

ers  nursed  their  children,  ages  ago;  and  there  is 
that  in  me  which  is  holy,  and  which  began  from  a 
forty  days'  fast  in  a  wilderness  in  Judea,  now  eigh- 
teen hundred  years  since."  Every  man  we  meet, 
every  emergency  in  which  we  are  thrown,  leaves  its 
impress,  slight  or  palpable,  upon  the  soul.  Just  as 
every  particle  of  food  we  take,  and  every  breath  we 
inhale,  contributes  something  to  the  nourishment  or 
injury  of  the  frame ;  just  as  we  are  unconscious  of 
the  play  of  the  lungs,  the  flow  of  the  blood,  and  of 
the  operation  of  the  forces  that  digest  and  assimi- 
late our  food ;  so  our  characters  derive  some  ele- 
ments for  healthy  or  unhealthy  growth  from  each 
of  the  occasions  of  life ;  arid  all  these  are  digested 
and  worked  into  our  spiritual  substance  by  forces 
that  play  without  our  knowledge,  and  independent 
on  the  control  of  our  will. 

The  most  precious  parts  of  education  are  those 
which  men  do  not  deprive  from  books,  and  which 
they  cannot  tell  how  they  acquired.  Take  that 
practical  wisdom  which  we  say  comes  from  experi- 
ence, and  how  is  it  acquired  ?  or  take  that  faculty 
which  we  term  a  shrewd  and  solid  common-  sense, 
and  how  is  it  developed  ?  Not  by  books,  academies, 
and  the  apparatus  of  study,  so  much  as  by  inter- 
course with  society,  and  the  training  of  every-day 
life,  —  the  indirect  culture  and  discipline  which  the 
street,  the  exchange,  the  market,  the  church,  and 
constant  communion  with  the  many-sided  world, 
pour  sideways,  as  it  were,  into  the  intellect  and 
heart. 


INDIRECT  INFLUENCES.  199 

And  looking  at  the  subject  in  a  more  exclusively 
religious  light,  how  many  indirect  influences  are 
experienced  by  us  in  favor  of  virtue  and  Christian 
goodness !  There  is  the  moral  law,  there  are  the 
abstract  principles  of  right ;  —  we  hear  them  often 
expounded  and  enforced,  and  our  souls  recognize 
their  truth  and  authority.  But  who  can  tell  how 
they  are  interpreted,  fortified,  and  recommended  by 
the  conduct  of  those  who  are  honest,  disinterested, 
and  Christian  ?  Who  can  tell  how  the  glory  and  di- 
vinity of  Jesus'  religion  are  impressed  upon  us,  and 
how  our  reverence  for  virtue  is  deepened  by  all  that 
we  witness  and  hear  of  the  beneficence,  self-sacrifice, 
purity,  and  devotion  of  the  true  men  and  women  in 
society  ?  or  by  what  we  see  and  know  of  the  sen- 
sual, selfish,  and  depraved  persons  with  whom  we 
come  in  contact  ?  Conscience,  and  the  moral  sensi- 
bilities, and  our  moral  ideas  are  quickened,  refined, 
and  confirmed,  silently  and  unconsciously,  by  the 
indirect  influences  of  experience,  full  as  much  as  by 
conscious  and  self-directed  efforts  to  train  them.  I 
know  not  that  it  would  not  be  safer  to  strike  down 
all  the  pulpits  of  the  land,  and  to  blot  out  the  influ- 
ences of  the  sanctuary  from  society,  than  to  lose  the 
secret  instruction  and  circuitous  support  which  the 
integrity  of  noble  merchants,  the  charities  of  good 
Samaritans,  and  the  radiant  sanctity  of  unques- 
tioned saints  afford,  or  to  be  deprived  of  the  impres- 
sive sermons,  which  a  thousand  spectacles  are  ever 
printing  upon  our  eyes,  of  the  peril  and  misery  of 
the  broad  and  slippery  way.  Certainly,  rather  than 


200  INDIRECT   INFLUENCES. 

lose  these,  we  could  afford  to  spare  all  the  critical 
and  philosophical  defences  of  Christianity  which  the 
libraries  of  the  world  contain. 

We  may  sleep  under  the  proclamation  of  the 
verbal  gospel ;  but  here  is  the  incarnate  gospel.  We 
may  question  the  logic,  and  slight  the  preaching  of 
Sunday  and  the  church  ;  but  here  is  the  preaching 
of  fact,  the  eloquence  of  week-days  and  of  the  world. 
Men  respect  realities,  and  will  not  quarrel  with 
them.  We  cannot  see  good  characters  and  bad 
characters  ;  we  cannot  observe  the  beauty  of  virtue, 
the  peace  of  goodness,  the  nobility  of  integrity,  and 
contrast  them  with  the  repulsiveness  of  vice,  the 
meanness,  of  avarice,  and  the  downward  tendency  of 
unrestrained  pleasure,  without  feeling  the  difference 
in  the  principles  they  reveal,  and  acknowledging 
that  they  are  enforced  by  eternal  sanctions,  and  are 
as  wide  apart  as  heaven  and  hell.  Thus  every 
good  act  preaches  ;  every  pure  and  true  word  is  a 
sunbeam  ;  every  Christian  life  is  a  rampart  against 
evil ;  and  all  the  virtue  which  is  visible  and  mani- 
fested among  men  —  going  to  make  up  the  sum  of 
influences  that  undulate  over  the  whole  surface  of 
society — is  an  indirect  but  powerful  emphasis  to  all 
the  eloquence  and  the  arguments  that  would  win 
them  to  goodness  and  warn  them  from  sin. 

The  amount  and  value  of  a  man's  influence,  for 
good  or  evil,  upon  the  world,  will  generally  depend 
upon  the  character  of  his  indirect  and  unconscious 
influence.  Personal  perfection,  —  the  Christian  re- 
finement of  feelings  and  sentiments,  faithfulness  to 


INDIEECT  INFLUENCES.  201 

all  the  duties  of  the  more  private  relations  we  sus- 
tain, are  inexorably  demanded  by  the  Almighty, 
and  by  the  spirit  of  Christ's  gospel ;  and  demanded 
the  more  rigorously  because  the  effect  of  such  fidel- 
ity does  not  end  with  ourselves,  but  goes  forth,  and 
wins  results  that  are  precious  in  the  sight  of  Heaven, 
^and  which  we  may  never  know.  The  spirit  of  a  per- 
son's life  is  ever  shedding  some  power,  just  as  a  flow- 
er is  steadily  bestowing  some  fragrance  upon  the  air. 
Do  you  think  that  a  pure  and  earnest  prayer,  in  the 
sacred  privacy  of  home,  does  not  steal  through  the 
walls  and  vivify  the  atmosphere  beyond  ?  Do  you 
doubt  that  a  word  of  sympathy  and  a  gift  of  charity, 
in  a  desolate  chamber,  publish  a  sweet  influence 
upon  the  frosty  air  of  human  selfishness  ?  Such 
things  reveal  and  confirm  character,  and  make  the 
power  of  the  person's  presence  who  performs  them 
more  intense  and  beneficial. 

Indirect  and  spontaneous  influences  always  reveal 
the  measure  and  spirit  of  character.  One  man  may 
discourse  to  me  most  eloquently  and  impressively, 
in  words,  of  virtue  and  duty,  and  I  attend  with 
listless  ears  and  untouched  breast ;  and  yet  my  soul 
will  glow  with  love  of  truth  and  duty,  and  a  thou- 
sand new  impulses  will  struggle  and  burn  in  me, 
when  I  am  in  the  society  of  some  choicer  spirit, 
while  his  calm  eye  sheds  serenity,  and  his  conver- 
sation on  ordinary  themes  is  saturated  with  a  relig- 
ious tone. 

Influence  depends  less  on  our  activity  than  on  the 
qualities  that  lie  behind  our  activity ;  as  the  planet 


202  INDIRECT  INFLUENCES. 

attracts,  not  by  its  motion,  but  by  its  weight.  If 
we  but  lived  as  we  ought  to  live,  and  as  we  might 
live,  a  power  would  go  out  from  us  that  would  make 
every  day  a  lyric  sermon,  that  should  be  seen  and 
-felt  by  an  ever-enlarging  audience. 

A  living  English  poet — Mr.  Browning — has  por- 
trayed the  indirect,  unintended,  and  unknown  influ- 
ences which  pure  goodness,  even  though  obscure, 
exerts,  in  a  singular  poem,  or  drama,  called,  "Pippa 
passes."  It  represents  one  day  —  a  New  Year's  holi- 
day—  in  the  life  of  a  young  girl  who  worked  in  an 
Italian  silk-mill.  She  is  a  sweet  singer,  and  deter- 
mined to  pass  her  day  of  rest  in  strolling  through 
her  native  city,  seeing  its  sights  and  singing  her 
songs.  Early  in  the  day,  she  goes  slowly  by  a  pal- 
ace where  a  murder  has  just  been  committed  for 
gain  and  unholy  love.  The  murderer  and  his  female 
accomplice  are  endeavoring  to  support  each  other's 
spirits,  when  the  closing  lines  of  the  silk  girl's  song 
are  heard  in  the  darkened  room.  The  man-s  ear 
catches  the  lines,  — 

"  God's  in  His  Heaven  —   . 
All's  right  with  the  world." 

The  singer  passes ;  but  something  in  the  sweet,  fresh 
melody  sends  that  thought  "  God's  in  his  heaven," 
into  the  polluted  man's  soul,  startles  his  conscience, 
chills  his  vile  passion,  and  compels  him  to  renounce 
the  objects  for  which  he  had  stained  his  hands  with 
blood. 

Soon  she  loiters  near  a  splendid  garden,  in  which 


INDIRECT  INFLUENCES.  203 

a  mother  is  striving  to  dissuade  her  noble  son  from 
joining  a  party  of  patriots,  who  have  vowed  to  rid 
their  country  of  oppression.  The  young  man  has 
been  brought  to  doubt  and  pause,  when  a  timely 
song  from  the  silk  girl,  as  she  passes,  rallies  his 
courage,  and  sends  him  away  at  the  only  moment 
when  success  would  be  possible.  And  twice  again 
do  her  songs  produce  effects  as  striking  upon  persons 
whom  she  knows  not,  who,  as  she  "  passes,"  are  just 
in  the  crisis  of  important  emergencies,  and  are  in- 
spirited by  her  notes  to  do  what  is  right  and  noble. 

At  last  the  day  is  spent,  and  at  night  the  poor, 
tired  girl,  as  she  sinks  to  rest,  wonders  how  near  she 
may  ever  approach  the  great  people  she  has  thought 
of  during  the  day,  —  "  approach  them  so  as  to  touch 
them,  move  them,  do  good  or  evil  to  them  in  some 
slight  way."  She  did  not  know  that  she  had  reached 
them  more  powerfully  than  any  of  their  equals  could 
do ;  that  her  melodies  had  been  woven  into  the 
fabric  of  spiritual  and  political  destinies ;  that  her 
artless  songs  had  risen  to  the  office  of  prophet, 
monitor,  and  friend ;  and  that  her  nature  had  shed 
sunlight  into  the  deepening  darkness  of  breasts,  into 
whicli  she  could  not  have  dared  to  dream  that  any 
direct  influence  from  her  could  enter. 

Who  then  can  estimate  the  uses  and  agencies  of 
one  true  word,  or  of  an  humble,  holy  life  ?  To  God 
it  is  precious,  and  with  men  it  is  more  powerful  than 
we  believe.  $\)r  the  indirect  influence  of  small 
things  is  often  much  more  important,  for  wide  and 
lasting  good,  than  the  direct  influence  of  what  we 


204  INDIRECT   INFLUENCES. 

suppose  are  the  important  things.  A  wise  man  once 
said,  "  Let  me  write  the  popular  ballads  of  a  nation, 
and  any  statesman  may  indite  the  laws."  Who  that 
thinks  of  the  subject  carefully  will  not  confess  that 
the  homes  of  a  people  - —  the  spirit  nurtured  there, 
the  graces  that  bloom 'there,  the  duties  that  are  dis- 
charged there  —  exert  a  more  powerful  effect  upon 
their  prosperity,  power,  and  destiny  than  the  senate- 
house  or  the  capitol  ?  And  no  strong  mind  will  have 
to  reflect  long,  in  order  to  be  convinced  that  the 
ministry  of  childhood  —  the  indirect  influence  of 
little  children  in  softening  the  nature  and  refining 
the  characters  of  men  and  women,  and  in  preparing 
them  for  higher  influences  —  is  an  infinitely  more 
efficient  ally  of  Christianity  than  all  presbyteries 
and  synods  and  Episcopal  councils  and  evangelical 
leagues.  It  is  as  true  of  empires  as  of  individuals, 
—  "  He  that  despiseth  small  things  shall  perish  little 
by  little." 

We  may  carry  our  subject  to  its  highest  expression, 
and  exhibit  the  truth  of  it  in  its  most  impressive  and 
triumphant  form,  by  calling  attention  to  the  indirect 
influence  of  the  character  of  Jesus  upon  the  world. 
When  he  was  on  the  earth  he  produced  the  deepest 
effect  upon  his  disciples,  less  perhaps  by  what  he 
said  (for  they  could  not  always  comprehend  the 
depth  and  spirituality  of  his  instructions)  than  by 
the  inexplicable  charm  of  his  presence,  and  the  efflu- 
ence from  his  ripe  and  fragrant  graces.  And  even 
now,  the  proportion  of  the  Christian  world  that  study 
his  career,  and  see  the  height  and  depth  of  his 


INDIKECT  INFLUENCES.  205 

character,  and  reverently  propose  the  spirit  of  his 
life  as  the  ideal  of  effort,  is  very  small.  But  the 
blessed  ministry  of  his  life  is  not  confined  to  these. 
Some  gleam  of  its  beauty  streams  through  the  rifts 
of  the  most  beclouded  and  benighted  soul.  Some 
tone  of  its  pathos  steals  across  the  discords  of  the 
foulest  breast,  ^ome  whisper  of  its  pleading,  in 
hours  of  unusual  silence  or  unusual  agitation  thrills 
the  nobler  chords  of  natures  that  have  long  wandered 
astray.  The  sight  of  human  suffering  enforces  its 
appeal  to  selfish  hearts  by  the  sanction  of  his  com- 
passion. The  most  heinous  guilt  pleads  for  mitiga- 
tion of  a  cruel  judgment  by  the  great  authority  of 
his  pity  and  hope.  If  men  have  a  large  idea,  or  a 
comprehensive  project  of  philanthropy  to  urge,  they 
instinctively  seek  the  shelter  and  the  commendation 
of  his  name.  Millions  who  know  nothing  of  the 
foundations  of  right,  or  of  the  nice  shades  of  obliga- 
tion, feel  no  perplexities  about  duty  when  the  picture 
of  his  career  is  called  up  by  their  fancy.  And  even 
children  appreciate  the  spirit  of  religion,  and  feel 
the  finer  sensibilities  warm  and  expand  in  the  light 
of  his  radiant  and  lovely  perfection.  The  oppressor 
is  uneasy  when  he  hears  of  Christ's  sympathy  with 
the  people,  and  his  estimate  of  the  human  soul. 
The  slave-dealer,  whose  conscience  is  barricaded 
against  arguments  that  deny  the  right  of  property  in 
man,  must  feel  the  infamy  of  his  traffic,  if  the  vision 
of  the  cross  is  ever  painted  on  his  dreams,  and  the 
pale,  blood-spent  brow  that  crowned  a  life  of  toil  for 
the  redemption,  not  only  of  men  of  every  Jme,  but 


206  INDIRECT   INFLUENCES. 

even  of  souls  that  are  most  deeply  stained  with  the 
black  leprosy  of  sin.  It  is  by  the  blessed  contagion 
caught  from  the  character  of  Christ  that  the  law  of 
duty  keeps  its  hold  in  some  way  upon  all  hearts,  — 
"  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thy  self. '?  The 
indirect  influence  of  Jesus'  life,  feebly  as  we  have 
obeyed  it,  is  the  hope  of  modern  civilization.  He 
reveals  the  deep  hues  of  our  sin  by  the  radiance  of 
his  spotlessness,  and  the  light  of  divine  goodness  he 
casts  upon  it ;  he  prompts  and  encourages  to  good 
and  holy  works  for  humanity  by  the  constant  and 
gentle  pressure  of  his  recorded  life  upon  the  con- 
sciences and  sympathies  of  men ;  and  through  the 
ordinances  that  commemorate  him,  in  the  lull  of 
worldiness,  and  the  sacred  silence  of  communion,  he 
sheds  comfort  and  strength  and  faith  and  peace 
into  hearts  that  are  wounded,  and  bosoms  that  long 
for  help. 


IX. 

LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT. 


JESUS,  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  asked  the 
question  of  his  disciples,  "Is  not  life  more  than 
meat  and  the  body  than  raiment  ?  " 

The  answer  of  most  of  the  world  to  this  question 
is,  No!  A  great  portion  of  mankind  cannot  live  for 
anything  much  above  physical  wants,  and  a  majority 
of  those  who  can,  do  not.  Is  it  not  sad  to  think, 
that  of  the  myriads  born  every  generation  upon  the 
globe,  most  are  under  the  doom  of  the  animal  na- 
ture by  their  birth  and  social  circumstances,  and 
are  compelled  to  drudge  for  material  food  and  rai- 
ment ?  But  it  is  a  sadder  truth  that  the  interest 
of  the  favored  classes  of  the  world  is  so  largely 
expended  upon  meat  and  raiment. 

Even  in  the  most  literal  sense,  how  much  of  hu- 
man effort  and  aspiration  is  so  expended,  —  for  ap- 
petite and  fashion,  for  what  is  eaten  and  worn! 
What  a  force  in  the  world  is  the  dinner-table! 
We  may  almost  say  that  commerce,  which  spots  the 
seas  with  sails,  is  the  purveyor  of  human  taste,  and 
keeps  its  fleets  of  naval  bees  sweeping  across  the 
latitudes,  and  roving  from  port  to  port,  to  gather 
the  honey  of  the  climates,  and  enrich  the^ dishes  on 

207 


208  LIFE   MORE   THAN   MEAT. 

which  fastidious  hunger  feeds.  How  many  thou- 
sands are  there  who,  if  the  feast  were  stricken  from 
their  day,  and  they  were  compelled  to  nourish  them- 
selves on  homely  and  wholesome  fare,  would  feel 
that  the  great  attractions  of  life  were  blotted  out; 
would  miss  the  seasons  and  the  solace  which  enno- 
ble and  adorn  their  time.  So  intensely  is  it  true 
with  many  that  meat  is  life,  that  they  live  to  eat 
instead  of  eat  to  live.  And  as  to  raiment,  —  how 
many  thousands  who  have  leisure  and  every  oppor- 
tunity for  deepening  an  inward  life,  reckon  the  value 
of  existence  by  the  dress  and  jewelry  with  which 
they  may  captivate  superficial  admiration,  and  daz- 
zle in  the  atmosphere  of  show  and  pride  !  Does  not 
the  Saviour's  language  have  a  solemn1  cadence  in 
this  nineteenth  century  since  its  primal  utterance, 
when  we  think  of  the  hosts  of  spirits  delicately 
formed,  and  in  an  age,  too,  when  the  rights  and  the 
true  position  of  woman  are  so  earnestly  discussed, 
who  would  find  life  empty  of  charm  and  stimulus  if 
they  were  compelled  to  dress  like  Quakeresses ;  if 
the  ambitions  and  rivalries  of  fashion  and  personal 
ornament  were  stricken  from  their  experience ;  and 
who,  so  far  as  any  great  objects  of  living  are  prac- 
tically entertained,  might  as  well  be  the  figures  in  a 
milliner's  window,  —  compounds  of  wood  and  wax, 
made  to  show,  the  pattern  of  a  silk,  the  tracery  of  a 
lace,  the  style  of  a  bonnet,  the  artistic  folding  of  a 
shawl,  and  to  rotate  before  a  crowd  which  is  gazed 
upon,  through  days  and  weeks,  with  the  same 
painted  smile  ? 


LIFE   MORE   THAN   MEAT.  209 

And  when  we  turn  from  these  extreme  and  most 
literal  illustrations,  to  the-  numberless  inhabitants  of 
Christendom  who  live  in  some  way  for  pleasure, 
self,  and  external  things,  we  are  impelled  by  sorrow 
to  the  question,  "  Is  not  life  more  than  meat  ? " 
Is  there  no  wide  recognition  of  what  human  life  is  ? 
Let  us  look  at  this  more  minutely.  Physical  exist- 
ence —  the  play  of  the  animal  organs  in  the  frame, 
the  flow  of  the  blood,  the  sensitiveness  of  the  nerves, 
the  capacity  of  sensation  —  is  not  life  only  the 
background  or  possibility  of  human  life.  The  Cre- 
ator made  us  for  the  exercise  of  the  great  capacities 
of  our  humanity,  each  of  which  brings  us  into  com- 
munion with  some  sphere  of  his  wisdom  or  good- 
ness ;  and  if  we  neglect  any  of  these  we  fail,  to  just 
that  extent,  of  the  possession  of  life.  In  fact  life, 
everywhere,  is  a  matter  of  degrees ;  it  depends  on 
the  number  and  the  dignity  of  the  functions  that 
are  exercised.  The  elm  has  more  than  the  flag  of 
the  marsh,  because  it  has  more  vegetable  forces 
at  work  upon  the  treasury  of  nature.  The  lion 
more  than  the  elm,  because  he  has  more  endow- 
ments still,  and  vastly  higher  ones.  So  that  life,  as 
a  privilege  and  a  power,  rises,  through  a  series  of 
stages,  from  the  plant  whose  unintelligent  vitality 
appropriates  the  materials  of  earth  and  air,  to  the 
shell-fish  that  has  merely  gained  the  boundaries  of 
sensation,  and  thence,  along  the  ascending  scale  of 
animal  development,  to  the  soul  of  man,  which  is 
open  to  infinite  truth,  thrills  to  the  charm  of  eter- 


210  LIFE   MORE   THAN  MEAT. 

nal  beauty,  and  may  inspire  something  of  the  grace 
of  the  all-pervading  God. 

We  ought,  therefore,  to  feel  that  life  is  more  than 
meat,  in  this  sense ;  that  the  privilege  of  life  out- 
weighs all  the  circumstances  that  may  attend  our 
existence.  Such  a  sentiment  is  essential  to  any 
religious  estimate  or  improvement  of  our  being. 
When  a  parent  places  a  son  in  a  university,  what 
wise  man  thinks  of  estimating  the  youth's  good  for- 
tune by  the  elegance  with  which  his  room  is  fur- 
nished, or  the  costly  and  delicate  meals  provided  for 
him  ?  These  are  slight  incidents,  well  enough  if 
they  do  not  absorb  interest ;  disadvantages  if  they 
do.  The  great  privilege  o'f  being  there  lies  in  the 
vast  means  that  may  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
intellect,  and  make  a  man  eminent  in  the  world  of 
truth.  That  privilege  is  for  all  who  enter  there. 
No  differences  among  the  students  are  important  or 
substantial  but  those  of  faculty  and  advancement. 
Is  it  not  so  in  a  still  higher  sense  with  regard  to  our 
position  in  this  universe  ?  Are  not  all  differences 
of  social  position,  money,  fame,  and  luxury  abased 
before  the  fact  that  we  are  in  the  universe,  en- 
dowed with  great  faculties,  set  amid  the  mysteries 
of  God's  being,  overhung  with  starry  immensities, 
capable  of  conversing  with  infinite  truth,  of  loving 
the  right,  and  of  giving  birth  to  hopes  that  travej 
out  into  eternal  vistas?  Though  you  are  a  king 
and  lose  your  throne  and  crown,  though  you  are 
lord  of  a  palace  and  lose  your  proud  estate,  what 
a  slight  misfortune  has  befallen  rou,  so  long  as  you 


•      LIFE   MORE   THAN   MEAT.  211 

are  still  a  living  soul  in  God's  everlasting  realm, 
under  the  dome  of  his  boundless  cathedral,  glori- 
fied yet  by  his  image,  endowed  with  his  eternity  ? 
Though  you  are  poor,  and  may  be  lifted  to  opulence 
and  power  >  how  slight  the  change  when  set  against 
the  fact  that,  at  any  rate,  you  are  rich  with  the 
blessing  of  conscious  and  spiritual  existence,  and 
that  no  money  can  give  you  a  new  faculty,  no 
earthly  power  make  you  anything  higher  than  a 
child  of  God ! 

The  moment  we  look  at  it  religiously  we  see  that 
the  great  common  privilege  —  life  —  reduces  all  con- 
ventional distinctions  to  insignificance.  The  glory 
of  the  oak  is  that  it  can  root  itself  in  the  soil,  ap- 
propriate the  air,  and  feed  upon  the  sun ;  and  the 
humblest  shrub,  each  yellow  buttercup,  has  the 
same  birthright,  and  rejoices  in  it  equally.  An  East- 
ern sage  once  said,  "  0  God,  pity  the  wicked ;  for 
thou  hast  done  everything  for  the  good  in  having 
made  them  good."  So  a 'deeply  wise  man  might 
say  that  God  has  done  everything  for  his  children  in 
having  given  them  being.  And  if  a  true  prayer 
could  go  up  to  God  to-day,  from  every  spirit  of  the 
myriads  on  this  globe,  the  form  and  hue  of  each 
would  betray  the  differences  of  circumstances  and 
trial  and  sorrow  that  distinguish  our  mortal  ca- 
reers ;  but  the  common  spirit  and  burden  would 
be, —  the  point  in  which  they  would  intermix  into 
one  dialect  of  gratitude,  —  "I  thank  thee,  0  thou 
Lord  and  Father  of  souls,  for  the  gift  and  glory  of 
life  in  thy  creation ;  life  lender  the  equity  of  thy 


212  LIFE   MORE   THAN  MEAT. 

government  and  the  light  of  thy  love ;  life  more 
precious  than  the  wealth  bestowed  upon  me,  or  the 
earthly  good  denied ;  life  whose  privilege  over- 
balances adversity,  sickness,  sorrow,  and  distress; 
life  the  opportunity  of  growth  and  goodness,  and 
the  promise  of  joy  and  progress  forevermore." 

We  may  measure  the  defect  of  religion  as  a  fun- 
damental sentiment  by  the  prevalent  poverty  of  this 
estimate  of  existence.  So  few  of  us  prize  it  for 
what  it  essentially  is,  so  great  a  majority  of  us  for 
its  incidental,  external,  temporary,  conventional 
prizes  and  acquisitions ! 

The  Bible  asks,  with  serious  emphasis,  "  Why 
should  a  living-  man  complain?" — as  though  no 
burden  can  be  loaded  upon  the  soul  heavy  enough 
to  crush  the  secret  sense  of  privilege  and  the  great 
hope  that  life  should  feed.  And  yet,  those  of  us  do 
complain  of  life  who  slight  its  central  benefaction 
and  count  its  common  opportunity  nothing.  Those 
complain  of  it  who  ask  and  strive  for  excitement  to 
make  the  days  acceptable.  They  complain  of  it, 
who  labor  for  gold  as  the  sole  thing  worth  having. 
They  complain  of  it,  who  count  their  existence  a 
a  failure  if  they  do  not  gain  the  position  and  the 
means  to  gratify  earthly  appetites  and  vanities. 
They  complain  of  it,  who  fret  and  repine  inwardly 
under  ordinary  hardships  and  sorrows  incident  to" 
our  lot,  and  see  no  vast  preponderance  of  good 
established  in  the  very  fact  that  souls  remain  to 
them,  powers  of  thought,  love  and  service,  and  hope 
that  may  invade  the  sky. 


LIFE   MORE   THAN   MEAT.  213 

But  we  have  wandered  somewhat  from  the  point 
I  would  keep  most  prominent,  namely,  that  the  re- 
ality and  depth  of  our  life  must  be  measured  by  the 
number  and  eminence  of  the  faculties  that  are  ac- 
tive. That  nature  in  which  none  of  the  high  pow- 
ers are  exercised,  no  thought,  no  taste,  no  aspira- 
tion, no  reverence,  no  love,  can  only  be  said  to 
exist,  —  it  does  not  live.  It  has  no  actual  life  that 
is  more  than  meat  and  raiment.  It  might  be  turned 
into  a  plant  —  if  only  sensation  could  be  continued 
to  it  —  without  any  conscious  irreparable  loss ;  it 
might  be  lowered  into  an  animal,  without  any  seri- 
ous protest  from  a  spiritual  quarter,  if  perfect  phys- 
ical satisfaction  be  guaranteed. 

Just  as  much  life  is  there  in  us,  higher  than  that 
which  comes  from  meat  and  raiment,  as  there  are 
faculties  in  exercise  that  import  intellectual,  moral, 
or  religious  sustenance  into  our  being.  Those  are 
our  days  of  true  vitality, — those  our  experiences  of 
human  life  when  we  gain  a  new  truth;  think  a 
noble,  exalting  thought ;  receive  a  better  motive ; 
cherish  a  more  generous,  catholic,  or  devout  senti- 
ment ;  feel  our  mental  horizon  widen  by  acquaint- 
ance with  a  good  book  or  conversation  with  a  wiser 
soul ;  thrill  with  admiration  of  some  master-piece  of 
genius  ;  form  or  encourage  an  aspiration  for  more 
wisdom,  virtue,  and  charity. 

No  matter  in  what  splendor  of  circumstances  we 
are  placed,  everything  about  us  is  only  the  show  of 
existence,  not  the  symbol  of  a  rich,  human  life  if 
some  of  the  faculties  that  ,are  related  to  the  Infinite 


214  LIFE   MORE   THAN   MEAT. 

world  are  not  awake  and  active.  And  when  we 
think  of  the  wonderful  endowment  of  powers  which 
heaven  has  made  upon  us,  is  it  not  sad  to  put  in 
contrast  with  them  our  estimate  of  their  worth,  the 
amount  of  our  fathfulness  in  their  discipline,  the 
results  that  have  come  from  them?  If  we  could 
listen  to  the  honest  prayers,  that  is,  to  the  deep  and 
steady  desires  that  rise  to  God  from  the  most  favored 
souls  on  this  planet,  how  seldom  should  we  hear 
those  that  express  a  longing  for  more  of  the  sub- 
stance of  life,  more  knowledge,  more  reverence, 
more  love  ;  —  and  of  the  satisfaction  and  thankful- 
ness which  human  hearts  are  conscious  of,  and  which 
God  regards,  how  constant  would  the  expression  of 
it  be  for  the  attainment  of  some  accident,  related 
only  to  the  surface  of  our  nature, —  a  little  more 
money,  an  increase  of  luxury,  a  position  somewhat 
more  eminent,  a  competitor  for  some  earthly  prize 
distanced  and  defeated  ;  —  and  only  here  and  there 
a  psalm  of  gladness  from  a  soul  that  God  has  created 
it  in  his  image,  and  opened  to  it,  in  the  worlds  of 
nature  and  revelation,  such  a  treasury  of  satisfaction 
and  delight. 

And  yet  there  is  a  call  to  such  gladness  and 
thankfulness,  not  only  that  we  have  the  privilege  of 
a  life  that  is  more  than  meat  and  raiment,  —  a  life 
intellectual,  virtuous,  and  spiritual, — but  also  that 
there  are  such  free  and  ample  opportunities  for  gain- 
ing and  enjoying  it.  It  is  easier  to  secure  the  good 
that  belongs  to  substantial  life  than  that  of  the 
senses  and  the  -superficial  nature.  If  the  energy 


LIFE  MOEE   THAN  MEAT.  215 

that  is  now  expended  in  the  interest  of  avarice,  or 
for  show,  or  excitement,  or  reputation,  or  a  fleeting 
power,  were  expended  for  any  line  of  real  good,  — 
in  the  stimulus  and  enlargement  of  any  of  our  im- 
mortal faculties,  what  might  not  human  nature  be  ! 
It  is  hard  to  heap  up  a  great  fortune,  to  get  an  offi- 
cial position  that  will  not  be  insecure,  to  win  a  long 
lease  of  sensuous  pleasure; — how  many  are  baffled 
in  their  efforts,  sick  at  heart  by  their  defeat,  and 
how  many  more  sick  at  heart  in  finding  how  little 
comes  of  even  brilliant  success,  —  how  great  the 
array  of  means  and  labor  to  insure  what  will  not 
satisfy  as  it  promised  to,  what  looks  attractive  in 
the  distance  but  pales  and  dwindles  in  the  actual 
grasp !  But  whoever  heard  of  toil  for  truth  being 
without  result,  or  the  appetite  for  wisdom  turning 
to  weariness  and  disgust,  or  any  effort  at  the  culture 
of  a  faculty  being  fruitless,  or  pure  taste  for  beauty 
disturbing  human  peace,  or  intercourse  with  nature 
yielding  no  satisfaction,  or  the  soul  returning  unfed 
and  disappointed  when  it  has  swept  off  into  the 
great  fields  of  wonder  and  mystery  ? 

There  is  no  uncertainty  of  success  in  the  region 
of  true  life,  and  that  region  is  open  to  all  alike. 
An  earnest  thought  will  go  out  from  a  small  house 
as  from  a  splendid  one,  and  bring  back  its  blessings 
to  the  mind.  The  power  to  love,  to  meditate,  to 
aspire,  is  not  dependent  on  the  scale  of  our  living. 
Titled  and  fashionable  people  may  not  visit  us  if 
our  sphere  is  humble,  our  purse  small,  and  our 
name  unfamiliar  to  the  world's  lips,  but  God  will 


216  LIFE   MORE   THAN  MEAT. 

visit  us  if  we  invite  him ;  the  great  deeps  of  truth 
arch  over  our  roof  as-  over  the  palace,  and  any  ex- 
ercise of  any  faculty  will  as  surely  be  successful 
there  in  deepening  our  life,  as  if  it  was  made  in  a 
princely  abode.  The  phrase  is  often  Tised  in  fash- 
ionable society  of  persons  approaching  their  major- 
ity, that  they  are  going  into  life,  that  they  are  about 
to  see  what,  life  is, —  meaning  by  this  that  they  are 
to  begin  a  personal  acquaintance  with  the  gayeties, 
amusements,  superficial  strifes,  rivalries,  shows,  and 
scandals,  which  break  like  elegant  and  empty  foam 
on  the  solemn  sea  of  human  experience.  But 
every  young  person  really  begins  to  enter  life,  and 
to  have  part  in  it,  when  the  mind  begins  to  develop, 
the  taste  to  refine,  the  conscience  to  grow  sensitive, 
the  heart  to  enlarge,  the  soul  to  aspire  and  grow 
reverent,  and  the  whole  nature  conscious  of  its  di- 
vine relationships  and  of  some  portion  of  that  peace 
that  flows  in  from  the  infinite.  The  life  of  show, — 
of  meat  and  raiment,  parties  and  balls,  may  begin 
in  a  demonstrative,  dazzling,  and  costly  way,  but 
real  life  beings  thus  silently  and  inwardly,  and  in- 
dependent on  any  scale  of  wealth  and  fashion. 

It  is  inspiring  to  think"  how  freely  the  opportuni- 
ties for  true  living  are  oifered  to  all  of  us.  Not 
only  is  nature  free  and  open,  not  only  are  the  splen- 
dors of  the  morning  and  the  pomp  of  the  sunset, 
the  gush  of  beauty  in  the  spring,  and  the  solemn 
magnificence  of  midnight,  given  equally  to  the  poor 
and  the  wealthy,  the  lowly  and  the  great,  —  but  it 
is  really  strange  to  think  how  the  best  things  of  the 


LIFE   MORE   THAN  MEAT.  217 

human  world  travel  to  all.  How  many  gifted  crit- 
ics have  exercised  the  subtlety  of  analysis  and  the 
resources  of  eloquence  in  sounding  and  celebrating 
the  greatness  of  Shakspeare  and  the  rich  benefaction 
of  his  genius  to  mankind.  And  yet  Shakspeare  may 
be  owned  by  everybody.  -Very  little  is  asked  by 
the  genius  of  traffic  for  the  privilege  of  his  society, 
the  best  talk  of  his  oceanic  mind  and  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  characters  with  which  he  has  enriched 
humanity.  Milton,  too,  may  be  a  guest  in  every 
house,  and  recite  his  sonorous  fable  of  the  angelic 
rebellion  and  the  loss  of  Paradise.  For  a  trifle, 
Homer  and  Dante  will  repeat  their  verses  to  the 
poor  man  who  cares  to  ask  them,  after  his  day  of 
toil ;  or  Newton  and  Herschel  will  come  and  tell 
him  of  the  scale  of  creation,  —  its  mighty  forces, 
and  accurate  laws.  And  when  a  great  gift  of  elo- 
quence is  imparted  to  a  statesman,  the  large  halls 
must  be  open  for  him  that  the  people  may  freely 
hear.  Great  geniuses  do  not  have  a  long  line  of 
children  to  perpetuate  a  copyright  and  inherit  their 
fame,  for  it  is  meant  for  the  world  to  own  them  and 
rejoice  ,m  them.  Luxuries,  fine  dresses,  the  enter- 
tainment of  senses  and  the  pampering  of  pride  are 
costly  ;  but  the  topmost  literature  of  the  world  — r 
the  fountains  and  inspiration  of  all  thought — can 
be  owned  for  fifty  dollars,  and  the  wondrous  Bible, 
museum  of  history,  poetry,  philosophy,  and  rev- 
elation, goes  to  the  meanest  hut,  introducing  Isaiah 
and  David  and  Job  and  Paul,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
highest  name  — if  the  door  will  be  open  to  it  —  with- 


218  LIFE   MORE  THAN   MEAT. 

out  money  and  without  price.  The  best  things  of 
the  world,  the  resources  of  inward  life,  are  so 
cheap  that  we  may  almost  say  they  can  be  had  for 
the  asking. 

When  I  have  reflected  upon  the  wonderful  results 
of  human  power  and  genius  that  are  represented 
in  a  great  city,  I  have*  thought  of  the  beneficent 
laws  that  assured  everybody,  the  poor  as  well  as 
the  rich,  the  highest  advantages  that  are  to  be  de- 
rived within  its  walls.  The  organic  life  of  Boston, 
for  instance,  the  civilization  that  has  accumulated 
from  the  generations  since  the  Puritans,  the  social 
order  and  good  government  that  are  maintained, 
are  for  the  humble,  as  for  the  high.  The  schools, 
with  every  advantage  which  .private  institutions 
offer,  are  for  the  children  of  the  poorest ;  —  and 
long  may  it  be  before  priestly  subtlety  shall  be  suf- 
fered, here  or  anywhere,  in  our  land,  to  break  down 
the  great  bulwark  of  freedom,  —  a  common  unsec- 
tarian  education  assured  by  law.  The  best  archi- 
tecture, Gothic  or  Grecian,  will  feed  any  eyes  that 
choose  to  look  upon  it.  The  most  glorious  grounds, 
infinitely  superior  to  any  rich  man's  estate  in  the 
vicinity,  where  the  crimsom  pomp  of  evening  dis- 
plays itself,  when  "  the  sun  wraps  his  robes  about 
him,  Caesar-like,  to  die,"  is  truly  a  Common.  Private 
sculptures  and  paintings  may  be  shut  out  from  our 
sight,  but  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  will  introduce  any 
eyes  to  works  of  genius  in  colors  and  stone  which 
no  man  is  rich  enough  to  own.  A  great  master- 
piece of  Handel  or  Hay  den,  worthily  interpreted 


LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  219 

by  voice,  chorus,  and  instruments,  may  be  listened 
to  for  the  price  of  a  common  meal,  or  on  a  winter 
afternoon  a  symphony  of  Beethoven  and  gems  from 
other  masters  are  offered  to  thousands  for  a  trifling 
coin.  -Suppose  that  all  these  were  privileges  of  op- 
ulence, high  birth,  and  fashion,  —  how  glorious  we 
should  consider  it  would  be  to  be  partakers  of  them ! 
But  that  which  is  highest  in  the  life  and  opportuni- 
ties of  the  city  cannot  be  monopolized  ;  it  is  free, 
or  at  least  cheap  enough,  for  the  poor.  It  is  thus 
God  would  abase  and  eradicate  the  spirit  of  envy, 
by  showing  us  that  the  best  is  for  all.  Everything 
that  may  feed  our  faculties  and  deepen  our  true 
human  life  —  everything  but  luxury  of  show  and 
pride  —  is  almost  without  cost,  in  order  that  we 
may  not  blame  Providence  if  our  minds  and  souls 
are  barren,  but  praise  nim  for  his  bounties  while 
we  take  the  discredit  of  our  shallow  living  to 
ourselves. 

And  now,  having  seen  that  life  consists  in  the  play 
of  our  deeper  faculties,  that  it  is  higher  than  meat, 
more  substantial  and  cheaper  than  the  gratification 
of  worldly  appetites  and  the  strife  for  show,  let  me 
say,  in  conclusion,  that  life  is  more  than  meat  and 
raiment  in  the  sense  of  compensation.  Men  should 
be  judged  by  the  kind  of  life  they  inwardly  are  con- 
scious of  and  enjoy,  not  by  the  scale  and  station  of 
their  career.  This  is  the  point  from  which  God  re- 
gards them,  and  from  that  point  more  order  is  visible 
in  the  world  than  we  sometimes  believe  in.  The  ine- 
qualities are  very  much  slighter  than  they  seem.  Do 


220  LIFE   MOEE   THAN. MEAT. 

you  point  to  differences  of  wealth,  reputation,  and 
ease  in  proof  of  serious  injustice  in  the  world? 
What  do  they  amount  to,  think  you,  in  the  estimate 
of  God,  in  comparison  with  the  development  of  those 
powers  that  were  kindled  from  his  life  ?  So  far  -  as 
difference  of  circumstances  enables  one,  and  for- 
bids another,  to  cultivate  his  moral,  mental,  and 
religious  powers,  there  is  disturbance  of  order,  but 
no  farther. 

To  know  how  fortunate  a  rich  man  is,  we  ought 
to  ask  —  as  higher  natures  ask  —  not  how  splendid 
is  his  abode,  but  how  much  domestic  love  and  hap- 
piness, which  make  the  human  home,  does  he  mani- 
fest or  receive  ?  —  not  how  much  glitter  surrounds 
him,  but  what  grade  of  faculties  bloom  upon  his 
nature,  and  are  fed  from  everlasting  realities?  — 
not  how  many  parties  can  Tie  give,  but  how  friendly 
is  his  intellect,  or  heart,  with  the  giants  of  genius, 
or  the  saints  of  faith? — not  how  spacious  and 
beautiful  is  his  country  estate,  —  for  the  magnificence 
and  mystery  of  nature  are  for  everybody,  —  but 
how  much  pure  taste  for  beauty  has  he,  how  deep  a 
serenity  of  heart,  how  peaceful  a  conscience,  how 
vital  a  faith  that  goes  out  beyond  this  world,  lays 
hold  of  eternity  and  appropriates  in  a  filial  joy  the 
great  Paradise  as  the  home  of  the  soul  ?  Within, 
within  is  the  seat  of  order.  Meat  and  drink  —  the 
incidents  and  accidents  of  existence  —  are  unequally 
distributed,  but  the  meat  and  drink  of  the  soul,  the 
life  that  is  more  than  raiment,  —  life  such  as  great 


LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  221 

natures  have  enjoyed  it,  and  which  they  have  prized 
supremely,  — these  are  independent  of  circumstances, 
they  come  from  our  faculties,  depend  upon  our 
inward  culture,  purity,  and  reverence,  and  decide 
whether  if  rich,  we  are  to  be  congratulated,  whether 
if  poor,  our  state  is  to  be  coveted  and  honored. 


X, 

INWARD  RESOURCES. 


CHRISTIAN  strength  consists  in  the  possession  of 
internal  stores  which  will  enable  us,  in  a  measure, 
to  maintain  an  independence  on  outward  circum- 
stances for  happiness. 

And  first,  let  me  speak  of  the  need  that  men 
should  have  some  mental  possessions  which  they 
have  stored  away  by  the  activity  and  fidelity  of  their 
minds.  I  do  not  say  that  a  man  cannot  be  a  Chris- 
tian unless  he  is  educated.  The  Christian  life  and 
character  is  determined  by  our  loves,  our  aspirations, 
the  state  of  our  hearts,  —  not  by  our  intellectual 
development  and  acquisitions.  But  the  more  men- 
tal culture  a  man  has,  other  things  being  equal,  the 
more  resources  he  will  have  in  himself,  and  the 
nobler  will  be  his  life. 

God  did  not  give  us  this  exquisitely  ordered  rea- 
son as  a  toy.  He  has  not  surrounded  us  with  the 
riches  and  mysteries  of  his  wisdom  that  we  might 
be  indifferent  to  them.  He  would  have  us  cultivate 
our  mental  gifts,  and  inquire  into  the  majestic 
methods  of  his  infinite  reason,  and  ennoble  our 
spirits  by  an  acquaintance  with  the  beauty  and  order, 
the  skill  and  goodness,  -which  the  sky  and  the  sea, 

222 


INWARD   RESOURCES.  223 

the  depths  of  the  earth,  the  vaults  of  air,  and  the 
sweep  of  his  moral  providence,  enfold.  When  the 
mental  faculties  are  awake  and  vigorous,  if  the 
heart  is  consecrated  by  a  Christian  temper,  the  char- 
acter is  more  massive  and  complete.  It  is  more  in- 
dependent ;  it  has  deeper  and  fuller  communion 
with  God.  A  man  has  more  stores  in  his  own  na- 
ture. The  strength  of  two  strands  is  greater  than 
that  of  one ;  and  when  God  gives  us  a  noble  faculty, 
we  may  be  sure  there  is  no  danger  in  training  it  to 
the  utmost,  if  we  but  keep  it  in  subjection  to  the 
true  spirit,  and  dedicate  'its  activity  to  the  highest 
end.  (> 

Some  of  the  most  inspiring  suggestions  and  pic- 
tures of  history  are  those  which  teach  us  the  power 
of  the  mind  of  man  to  conquer  adverse  circum- 
stances, and  vindicate  its  royalty  over  fortune. 
Poor  and  blind  Homer !  What  mental  stores  had 
he  as  a  foundation  against  the  neglect  of  men. 
And  how  liberally,  with  a  Christian  spirit  that 
moved  him  to  return  the  richest  good  for  evil,  has 
he  blessed  the  world  that  slighted  him,  from  that 
intellectual  treasury  which  poverty  could  not  drain, 
nor  scorn  impair !  How  noble  a  picture,  too,  is  that 
of  Washington,  upheld  in  adversities,  and  uphold- 
ing the  spirits  of  a  nation  in  times  of  utter  darkness, 
by  his  inward  store  of  plans,  hopes,  and  visions  of 
brighter  hours !  And  shall  we  forget  the  experience 
of  him,  the  great  Christian  poet,  who  sang  of  the 
lost,  and  of  the  better  paradise  ?  The  outward 


224  INWARD   RESOURCES. 

world  was  shut  out  from  him.     With  sad,  sweet 
melody  did  he  sing,  — 

"  Seasons  return,  but  not  to  me  returns 
Day,  or  the  sweet  approach  of  even  or  morn, 
Or  sight  of  vernal  bloom,  or  summer's  rose, 
Or  flocks,  or  herds,  or  human  face  divine ; 
But  cloud  instead,  and  ever-during  dark 
Surrounds  me,  from  the  cheerful  ways  of  men 
Cut  off,     .        .        .        ... 


And  wisdom  at  one  entrance  quite  shut  out." 

But  his  soul  was  filled  with  the  riches  of  thought 
which  he  had  stored  away.  Penury,  disgrace,  and 
blindness  did  not  leave  him  without  resource, — 
could  not  prevent  his  feeding  "  on  thoughts  that 
voluntary  move  harmonious  numbers."  Swarms  of 
glorious,  majestic  visitants  were  with  him,  since  his 
aspiration  was  answered,  — 

"  So  much  the  rather  thou  celestial  light 
Shine  inward,  and  the  Mind  through  all  her  powers 
Irradiate ;  there  plant  eyes,  all  mist  from  thence 
Purge  and  disperse,  that  I  may  see  and  tell 
Of  things  invisible  to  mortal  sight." 

No  character  is  complete  that  has  not  some 
mental  treasures  on  which  it  may  draw  during  the 
treachery  of  fortune.  It  is  a  mournful  spectacle, 
morally  mournful,  to  see  a  person  retiring  from  the 
world  with  treasures  of  wealth,  or  one  who  has  per- 
haps been  shipwrecked  by  the  chances  of  trade,  or 
an  old  man  whose  bodily  faculties  have  failed  before 
his  energy,  either  restless  or  melancholy,  or  listless 
and  unhappy,  because  the  customary  excitement  of 
activity,  or  the  fashionable  position,  or  the  sight  of 


INWARD   RESOURCES.  225 

the  crowd  is  denied  to  them,  —  to  see  that  no  love 
of  truth,  in  a  world  so  full  of  wisdom,  no  taste,  m 
a  universe  so  full  of  beauty,  no  mental  appetites, 
where  nature  offers  to  them  such  bountiful  repasts, 
have  been  quickened  during  a  long  life  of  constant 
toil ;  —  and  therefore,  that  when  the  horn  of  plenty 
runs  over,  or  when  luck  plays  false,  or  the  limbs 
fail  the  stronger  mind,  there  is  no  independent  man- 
liness to  assert  its  proper  majesty,  no  inward  re- 
sources to  attest  an  educated  soul.  By  every  con- 
sideration of  noble  self-interest,  and  gratitude  to 
God  for  the  gift  of  reason,  every  person  is  called 
upon  to  lay  up  some  store  of  knowledge,  and  to 
form  some  pure  mental  tastes,  as  a  foundation 
against  the  evil  fortunes  that  may  lurk  in  the  time 
to  come. 

Again,  —  and  here  we  approach  the  spiritual  ele- 
ments of  our  subject,  —  every  person  should  have 
within  a  store  of  moral  power,  affections,  principle. 
Every  man  whose  virtue  is  secure  must  possess  a 
fund  of  moral  strength  which  is  more  than  equal 
to  all  the  demands  upon  his  will.  It  is  not  enough 
to  establish  the  purity  of  any  soul  that  it  can  just 
rub  and  go,  in  keeping  clear  of  sin.  It  must  have 
stores  of  spiritual  force  upon  which  it  is  not  com- 
pelled to  draw.  God  would  have  our  triumph  over 
evil  an  easy  conquest,  one  which  does  not  fret  and 
wear  our  hearts  away  by  keeping  them  always  at 
their  toughest  strain.  It  is  a  bad  sign  if  we  have 
to  wrestle  long  with  ordinary  temptations.  A  man 
ought  to  feel,  not  only  that  he  is  equal  to  ordinary 

15 


226  INWARD   RESOURCES. 

trials,  but  superior  to  them,  equal  to  the  greatest 
trial  that  may  come,  yes,  superior  to  that.  Not 
that  a  good  man  will  be  or  ought  to  be  proud  of  his 
strength  ;  not  that  there  should  ever  be  a  haughty 
and  complacent  self-reliance  in  his  breast.  The  in- 
finite richness  of  his  resources  should  lie  in  pure 
affections  that  seek,  and  love,  and  are  attracted  to, 
and  live  in,  the  right  and  good.  His  experience  of 
virtue  should  be  so  deep,  his  holiness  so  vital,  his 
piety  so  constant,  that  goodness  and  holiness  become 
the  food  of  his  spirit.  His  reliance,  therefore,  will 
not  be  on  granite  strength  of  resolution  and  Titanic 
vigor  of  will ;  he  never  will  cherish  a  spirit  of  bra- 
vado, and  desire  to  play  the  pugilist  with  evil ;  his 
resources  should  be  so  vast  that  base  suggestions 
will  pass  by  him  without  leaving  a  soil  upon  his 
heart,  or  finding  any  chance  to-hold  parley  with  his 
will,  —  pass  by  him  as  a  temptation  to  sinful  indul- 
gence would  have  flitted  before  the  upraised  eye  of 
Christ,  without  disturbing  the  serenity  of  his  prayer. 
The  good  man's  resources  of  power,  like  his  mental 
stores,  are  cultivated  faculties,  right  instincts  that 
naturally  seek  the  good,  holy  affections  abiding  ever 
in  his  heart ;  and  which,  by  their  positive  attrac- 
tions, do  away,  at  last,  the  necessity  of  any  vigorous, 
visible,  or  conscious  conflict  with  sin. 

And  such  inward  resources,  thus  founded,  form 
the  good  man's  support  in  seasons  of  trial  and  suf- 
fering for  virtue.  He  is  sustained,  then,  by  the 
treasures  of  his  heart.  The  internal  resources  of 
power  which  would  not  suffer  him  to  be  false  to 


INWAED   RESOURCES.  227 

duty,  become  resources  of  support  and  pleasure  in 
the  crisis  and  the  need.  The  spirit  of  sacrifice, 
wherever  found,  or  in  what  manner  soever  shown, 
is  always  a  spirit  of  illumination.  Stephen  and 
Peter,  and  the  prophets,  and  the  great  missionaries 
of  the  church,  have  found  their  support,  not  in  a 
miraculous  grace,  but  hi  that  grace  which  insures 
to  every  faithful  spirit  a  treasury  arid  foundation  of 
solace  and  strength,  which  "  moth  and  rust  cannot 
corrupt."  It  was  the  buoyant  inward  stores,  de- 
veloped by  long  faithfulness  to  conscience,  that 
made  the  bearing  of  Socrates  so  serene  before  his 
judges,  and  filled  his  prison  with  the  mystic  light 
of  immortality  ;  it  was  Paul's  earnestness,  his  con- 
sciousness of  a  well-spent  life,  the  long  and  glad 
devotion  of  his  will  to  the  service  of  a  higher  law, 
which  whispered  that  grand  assurance  of  immor- 
tality to  his  dying  spirit,  and  made  him  welcome 
the  axe  as  the  friendly  instrument  that  should  re- 
lease his  spirit  from  its  prison,  and  permit  it  to  seek 
the  society  above. 

In  order  to  impress  us  most  deeply  with  the  fact 
that  holiness  is  the  highest  good  of  life,  God  never 
bestows  any  richer  blessing  upon  faithful  hearts 
than  their  own  holiness.  He  never  draws  any 
nearer  to  the  spirit,  or  by  any  other  medium,  than 
in  and  through  its  holiness.  He  has  appointed  so 
that  goodness  shall  be  our  joy  in  cloudless  times, 
and  our  strength  and  comfort  when  the  sky  is  dark ; 
and  there  are  no  other  resources  to  uphold  a 
wronged  and  persecuted  good  man  in  his  seeming 


228      .  INWARD    RESOURCES. 

desertion  by  'Providence  itself,   and  he  needs  no 
other,  tha*n  the  good  treasure  of  his  heart." 

A  good  man,  too,  has  treasures  in  him  of  memory 
and  hope.  It  is  a  beautiful  and  beneficent  ordi- 
nance of  God  that  we  love  to  remember  only  the 
good  and  holy.  No  person  does  or  can  take  pleas- 
ure in  recalling  or  dwelling  in  meditation  upoil  the 
evil,  the  base,  the  vile.  .  The  pleasures  of  memory 
spring  only  from  the  recollection  of  something 
noble,  worthy,  and  pure.  And  it  is  a  universal  law 
of  souls,  that  what  seems  unpleasant  and  arduous 
when  we  have  to  face  it  and  resolve  to  do  it,  looks 
delightful  when  contemplated  as  a  treasure  of  mem- 
ory, a  fact  of  our  past  existence.  In  prospect  and 
retrospect,  good  alone  looks  winning  and  delightful. 
Say  to  any  man  that  next  week  he  will  perform 
some  splendid  heroic  deed,  some  act  that  will  thrill 
the  hearts  of  men,  and  win  the  approbation  of  God, 
and  it  will  delight  and  inspire  him.  Prophesy  that 
he  will  do  some  mean,  selfish,  treacherous  deed, 
however  profitable  in  a  worldly  view,  and  he  will 
recoil  from  it,  and  prefer,  before  the  terrible  temp- 
tation comes,  that  it  should  be  otherwise.  We  give 
to  holiness  the  vote  of  our  aspirations,  as  we  con- 
template it ;  we  condemn  vice  by  the  judgment  of 
our  regrets  and  shame,  when  we  look  back  upon  it. 
Can  you  conceive  such  an  anomaly  as  a  memory 
delighted  or  happy  in  the  recollection  of  its  once 
pleasant  misdeeds  ?  Ah !  we  would  throw  a  pall 
—  a  pall  as  of  midnight  darkness  —  over  the  un- 
faithfulness and  unhallowed  pleasures  of  the  past. 


INWARD   RESOURCES.  229 

We  would  make  the  miserable  moments  of  those 
once  welcomed  joys  a  blank  in  our  being ;  we  would 
hail  with  rapture  the  spell  that  could  wipe  them 
forever  from  the  tablets  of  the  brain.  Go  ask  the 
satiated  sensualist  what  he  would  give  if  the  foul 
blots  upon  his  soul's  history  could  be  exchanged 
for  acts  of  purity  and  honor,  —  if  his  past  years, 
so  spotted  with  infamy,  conld  unroll  themselves 
before  the  eye  of  meditation,  filled  with  winning 
pictures  of  useful,  holy  deeds ;  ask  the  murderer, 
whosp  passion  for  vengeance  has  been  quenched  in 
the  blood  of  a  victim,  what  he  would  give  could 
the  memory  of  his  crime  be  blotted  from  his  spirit, 
could  his  dreams  and  musings  be  void  of  spectres, 
and  he  be  enabled  to  look  back  upon  an  injury  /or- 
g-iven,  not  revenged ;  ask  the  gambler,  even  the  old, 
successful,  wealthy  gambler,  —  if  such  a  one  was 
ever  known, — how  much  of  his  treasures  of  hell  he 
would  pay  for  a  past  life  ennobled  by  honor  and 
useful  industry,  and  the  annihilation  of  a  retro- 
spect from  which  he  cannot  fly  ;  ask  the  unde- 
tected knave  what  he  would  give  for  an  unpolluted 
heart,  an  unflawed  conscience,  the  sweet  sleep  of 
innocence,  and  the  rich  glow  of  satisfaction,  which 
a  sense  of 'steady  integrity  sheds  over  the  retreating 
landscape  of  our  earthly  life,  —  and  they  will  tell 
you  with  passionate  tears,  if  you  unlock  their  deep- 
est confidence,  "  We  would  give  all  else  we  have." 
They  would  exclaim  in  words,  as  they  often  ex- 
claim in  spirit,  Oh,  come  back  to  us,  sunlit,  quiet 
days  of  innocence,  that  lie  in  such  serene  beauty  in 


230  INWARD   RESOURCES. 

the  far-distant  depths  of  memory ;  extend  like  a 
line  of  rich  hills-  and  checkered  vales  along  the 
burning  wastes  of  years,  on  which  our  eyes  now 
fall ;  let  our  past  be  dotted  with  objects  that  may 
charm  our  backward  vision,  and  gratify  our  self- 
respect,  and  win  the  approbation  of  conscience  and 
God,  and  not  mock  us,  as  now,  with  such  a  spec- 
tacle of  moral  desolation ;  let  us  but  be  able  to 
look  with  unshamed  spirits  and  inward  satisfaction 
on  the  past,  and  we  will  abandon,  willingly  and 
forever,  all  the  pleasures,  gains,  and  honors  of  ini- 
quity. Remorse  is  a  guilt-laden  memory,  pressing 
heavily  on  an  awakened  conscience  that  teaches  us 
too  late  the  folly  of  sin.  It  is  from  memory  that 
the  fiends  arise  which  haunt  and  lash  the  guilty 
breast.  It  is  from  memory  that  the  angels  of  light 
are  born  which  gladden  with  their  society  and  com- 
panionship the  faithful  soul. 

And  the  good  man  has  also  resources  of  hope. 
It  is  the  tendency  of  goodness  to  inspire  and  foster 
hope,  founded  on  confidence  in  man  and  trust  in 
God.  To  the  intellectual  sensualist  and  cold- 
hearted  scoffer,  the  world  presents  a  sad,  cheerless 
problem.  Such  natures  see  only  the  sin,  wrong, 
error,  selfishness  of  men.  They  have  no  generous 
aspirations,  no  enlivening  anticipations,  no  cheering 
prophecies  of  good.  Theirs  is  the  philosophy  of  in- 
difference or  despair.  But  among  the  treasures  of 
a  religious  heart  is  a  buoyant,  animating  confidence 
in  truth  and  right,  and  the  better  part  of  human 
nature.  A  good  man  feels  that  goodness  is  the 


INWARD   RESOURCES.  231 

I 

great  fact  in  the  universe  rather  than  evil;  that 
providence  is  more  powerful  than  the  finite  obstruc- 
tions and  disturbances  which  it  encounters ;  that 
divine  law  is  mightier  than  the  anomalies  which  the 
feeble  senses  see ;  that  wrong  and  evil  waste  them- 
selves, and  that  the  deepest  instincts  and  undying 
sympathies  of  man  seek  and  desire  the  holy  and 
the  true.  And  so  the  clouds  are  tipped  and  tinged 
with  a  golden  richness,  from  the  bright  light  behind, 
and  the  harmonies  of  providence  and  eternity  absorb 
the  discords  of  the  moment  and  of  earth.  The 
philanthropist  who  is  brought  in  constant  contact 
with  vice  and  degradation  never  loses  his  confidence 
in  man  ;  the  martyr  never  doubts  God's  goodness ; 
the  reformer  enjoys  a  premonitron  of  the  triumph 
of  his  cause.  Out  of  the  good  treasure  of  their 
hearts — hearts  in  sympathy  with  holiness  and  prov- 
idence —  come  prophecies  of  the  triumphs  of  holi- 
ness and  heaven. 


XI.- 


I  AM  amazed,  often,  in  reflecting  upon  the  appar- 
ent listlessness  with  which  most  of  us  entertain  the 
testimony  of  the  visible  universe  for  God's  provi- 
dence over  men.  Is  not  the  argument  unanswer- 
able and  irresistible  ?  We  cannot  find  a  single  ob- 
ject in  the  physical  world  which  is  not  encircled  by 
laws  that  are  sleepless  and  perfect.  The  orbit  of 
every  asteroid  is  defended  against  dangerous  intru- 
sion by  an  art  from  which  no  resource  is  absent. 
The  path  of  every  filmy  comet  is  so  appointed  that 
it  shall  not  be  dissipated  by  the  sun  which  it  brushes 
with  vapor,  nor  lost  in  the  cold  depths  of  the  outer 
darkness  which  it  stains.  The  line  of  order  is  stretch- 
ed from  firmament  to  firmament.  The  harness  of 
mathematics  is  laid  upon  every  sun  that  draws  his 
mighty  load  through  the  spaces  of  the  sky.  The 
invisible  animalcule  has  a  function  and  a  sphere 
which  cannot  be  invaded.  Thousands  of  explorers 
—  the  most  gifted  of  the  earth's  intellects  —  are 
ever  studying,  and  are  printing  in  countless  vol- 
umes reports  and  demonstrations  of  the  skill  and 
wisdom  which  is  subtile  enough  to  enfold  the  mote 
kindly  in  its  coil,  and  which  plays  with  Sirius  as 

232 


NATURAL   AND   SPIRITUAL    PROVIDENCE. 

with  a  toy.  Nature  is  order.  There  is  110  chance. 
There  is  no  finger-breadth  of  chaos  in  the  whole  cir- 
cumference, sprinkled  with  star-dust,  which  the 
telescope  has  swept. 

And  why,  as  a  mere  matter  of  science,  will  you 
isolate  humanity  from  this  web  of  wisdom  ?  Sci- 
ence discovers  that  every  arrangement  of  the  phys- 
ical realm,  from  the  anatomy  of  a  beetle  to  the 
jagged  oscillations  of  a  planet  in  its  orbit,  and  the 
curve  in  which  a  constellation  drifts,  is  the  best  pos- 
sible arrangement  which  the  human  intellect  can 
conceive.  What  right  have  we,  as  cool  mental  ex- 
plorers, to  suppose  that  man  is  overlooked,  or  un- 
cared  for,  in  this  domain  of  which  every  atom  rises 
to  attest  not  only  a  providence,  but  a  perfect  provi- 
dence? If  we  apply  the  induction  of  nature  to 
man,  the  highest  fact  of  nature,  we  shall  believe  at 
once  in  a  spiritual  providence ;  and  I  see  not  how 
we  can  reject  that  conclusion  unless  we  give  up  the 
hypothesis  of  God. 

But  to  come  down  from  the  general  argument  to 
a  particular  instance  of  it,  and  the  particular  con- 
clusions it  suggests.  If  it  seems  strong  in  the  broad 
presentation  of  it,  it  is  more  so  in  a  more  minute 
inspection.  Christ  himself  has  called  us  to  consider 
the  lilies  of  the  field ;  and  let  us  do  so.  He,  him- 
self has  put  the  argument  in  this  form :  "If  God 
so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field,  which  to-day  is  and 
to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven,  shall  he  not  much 
more  clothe  you?"  Under  the  light  of  modern 
science  it  is  still  more  impressive. 


234        NATURAL   AND   SPIRITUAL    PROVIDENCE. 

If  you  should  fix  your  eye  upon  a  wild  violet, 
which  the  return  of  this  creative  season  has  evoked 
into  life,  or  upon  any  common  vegetable  of  the  for- 
est, and  couid  comprehend  at  once  all  the  mechan- 
ism and  "all  the  foresight  that  are  implied  in  its 
growth,  you  would  be  overwhelmed  with  wonder. 
Indeed,  scarcely  any  intellect  would  be  equal  to  the 
task.  It  grows  there  in  the  field,  seemingly  as  a 
matter  of  course ;  —  a  chance  seed,  dropped  by  the 
winds,  found  lodging  in  the  soil,  and  the  mystery, 
we  think,  is  solved.  But  stop.  That  seed  was 
swollen  in  the  ground  by  the  warm  moisture,  and 
the  first  effort  of  vital  force  began.  As  soon  as  that 
began,  however,  the  rest  of  the  seed,  by  a  subtile 
chemical  process,  changed  into  sugar,  to  nourish 
the  infant  life,  too  delicate  as  yet  to  grapple  with 
the  coarse  ground.  This,  of  course,  was  provided 
for.  The  tender  root  strikes  down  and  finds  the 
soil  pliant  to  its  first  feeble  energies ;  a  delicate 
blade  starts  up  and  finds  the  sun  ready  to  tinge  it 
with  a  tint  of  green.  The  little  fibres  beneath  the 
soil  begin  to  draw  chemical  drops  from  the  ground, 
and  the  blade  inspires  gases  from  the  air,  which  they 
send  up  and  down  through  tiny  cells,  until,  by  va- 
rious processes  of  combination,  a  stem,  a  twig,  a 
leaf  are  formed. 

But  the  wonder  is,  that,  as  each  new  necessity 
appears,  the  new  provision  is  at  hand.  The  soil 
is  friendly  to  the  plant  at  every  stage.  It  has  just 
the  elements  that  are  necessary  for  its  growing 
needs,  not  too  abundant,  not  too  scanty.  The  air, 


NATURAL   AND   SPIRITUAL    PROVIDENCE.        235 

too,  has  just  materials  enough  in  its  treasury,  and 
yields  them  with  just  the  requisite  freedom  to 
the  feeble  stranger.  The  attraction  of  the  earth 
is  necessary  to  hold  its  minute  fibres,  and  strength- 
en its  stalk.  But  its  attraction  is  not  strong  enough 
to  prevent  the  juices  from  rising  through  its  cells 
to  carry  life  to  its  leaves,  so  that  the  all-pervading 
law  of  gravitation,  which  is  at  once  the  floor  and 
the  pillars  of  the  universe,  was  appointed  so  as  to 
befriend  the  meek  violet  of  the  meadow.  The  air 
needs  to  be  freshened  in  order  to  furnish  pure  ma- 
terial for  its  leaves  to  inspire,  —  and  so  there  must 
be  winds  and  lightnings ;  but  how  seldom  is  there  a 
tempest  that  destroys  the  life  of  the  wild-flower ! 
There  must  be  rains  to  nourish  it.  But  the  ocean 
does  not  evaporate  moisture  fast  enough  to  flood  it, 
nor  slowly  enough  to  leave  it  long  without  its 
draught  of  life.  It  must  have  dews;  and  the  night- 
skies  weep  upon  it  with  a  pity  just  equivalent  to  its 
want  of  sympathy.  It  needs  so  many  hours  of  light 
and  so  many  of  gloom;  and  the  huge  earth  spins 
just  fast  enough  to  alternate  fitly  its  seasons  of  work 
and  rest.  It  requires  a  certain  change  of  seasons ; 
and  the  globe  beats  about  its  vast  orbit  to  afford  it, 
in  right  proportions,  the  spring-time,  the  summer, 
the  autumn,  and  winter.  It  needs  not  only  light, 
but  heat,  and  not  only  heat,  but  also  a  certain  prin- 
ciple of  vitality  which  is  neither  one  nor  the  other; 
and  lo !  the  sun-ray  holds  all  three ;  and  hi  the 
spring-time  sheds  one  most  freely,  in  the  summer 
the  second,  and  in  the  autumn  the  third  ;  and  sel- 


286         NATURAL   AND   SPIRITUAL    PROVIDENCE. 

dom  does  it  shine  so  powerfully  as  to  scorch  it  or 
so  faintly  as  to  blight. 

St.  Augustine,  fifteen  centuries  ago,  reasoned 
against  the  polytheism  of  his  time  by  showing  that 
if  one  deity  (as  was  said)  presided  over  every  func- 
tion of  nature,  it  would  take  a  hundred  goddesses 
to  weave  a  flower,  —  so  complicated  was  its  struc- 
ture. What  would  he  say  if  all  the  mysteries  of 
modern  science  that  cluster  around  a  single  plant 
were  opened  to  him  ?  The  adaptations  are  so  vari- 
ous, so  subtile,  so  complicated ;  the  relations  of  all 
other  forces  and  elements  are  so  nicely  balanced  and 
adjusted  to  its  welfare,  that  one  might  almost  sup- 
pose, looking  at  it  alone,  that  the  sun,  the  air,  the 
ocean,  the  globe  with  its  inclined  axis  and  annual 
revolution,  were  created  and  set  to  work  as  God's 
immense  factory  for  the  weaving  of  a  flower. 

The  growth  and  protection  of  a  violet  or  a  tuft 
of  grass  could  not  have  been  better  provided  for,  if 
it  alone  had  been  the  object  of  the  Almighty  in  the 
creation  ;  if  the  sun  had  been  placed  at  the  exact 
distance,  and  the  air  so  mixed,  and  the  globe  so 
weighed,  and  the  ocean  so  measured,  and  the  clouds 
so  marshalled,  and  the  storms  so  tempered,  and  the 
seasons  so  graduated,  as  best  to  evoke  it  into  life, 
and  tint  its  clothing,  and  sustain  its  existence.  This 
is  one  leaf  of  the  gospel  of  science.  This  is  the 
result  of  its  obedience  to  the  Saviour's  bidding,  — 
"  Consider  the  lilies  how  they  grow."  And  must 
not  the  practical  result  be  equally  forcible,  as  science 
looks  up  from  a  flower  to  a  man  ?  "If  God  so  clothe 


NATURAL   AND   SPIRITUAL    PROVIDENCE.         237 

the  grass  of  the  field,  shall  he  not  much  more  clothe 
you  ?  " 

"  Much  more  !  "  "  Much  more  clothe  you" 
What  a  lamentable  scepticism  in  the  soul  is  that 
which  allows  a  man  to  think  that  the  wi'sdom  which 
does  so  much  for  a  plant,  has  no  solicitude  for  that 
which  can  think  and  love  and  serve  the  right !  The 
plant  exists  for  a  year.  Its  highest  function  is  to 
drink  the  dew  and  adorn  the  landscape  with  its  hues 
and  sprinkle  the  breeze  with  fragrance. .  But  here  is 
that  which  studies  this  wisdom  which  the  lily 
preaches,  and  apprehends  the  beauty  which  it 
wears, — yes,  and  comprehends  the  order  of  the  sky ; 
here  is  that  which  globe  and  firmament  cannot 
satisfy ;  which  sends  its  aspiration  beyond  them,  and 
cries,  "  Where  art  thou,  that  didst  make  these  won- 
ders, and  canst  not  be  bounded  by  thy  creation  ?  "  — 
here  is  a  being  capable  of  feeding  its  faculties  on  the 
glories  of  the  infinite  Creator,  —  feeling  so  akin  to 
him,  that,  at  times,  it  pants  for  a  fuller  knowledge 
of  his  spirit,  "  as  the  hart  panteth  for  the  water- 
brooks  ; "  —  and  yet  it  stands  in  doubt  before  this 
wild-flower,  which  lives  by  the  love  of  God ;  stands 
in  doubt,  amid  this  universe, — to  all  of  which  he 
is  infinitely  superior,  whether  God  really  cares  for 
him,  and  oversees  with  wise  and  tender  interest  the 
current  of  his  experience  !  The  mere  statement 
of  such  an  anomaly  should  be  enough  to  blast  the 
doubt.  The  amazement  we  should  feel  at  hearing 
the  difficulty  uttered  is  the  only  logic  that  is  worthy 
to  scatter  it. 


4 

238         NATDEAL   AND   SPIRITUAL    PROVIDENCE. 

Do  you  look  into  the  night-sky,  my  brother,  as  an 
atheist,  or  as  a  believer  in  God  ?  Do  you  view  the 
returning  spring-time  as  a  doubter  in  God's  exist- 
ence, or  as  convinced  of  his  presence  ?  If  as  an 
atheist,  you 'are  absolved  from  the  dignity  and  com- 
fort of  faith  in  providence ;  if  as  a  believer  of  God, 
for  the  credit  of  your  mind,  as  well  as  for  the  peace 
of  your  bosom,  be  ready  to  see  and  to  accept  all  that 
nature  teaches,  and  to  say,  as  the  sufficient  and  final 
proof  of  providence,  If  God  so  clothe  the  grass  of 
the  field,  which  to-day  is  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into 
the  oven,  shall  he  not  much  more  clothe  us,  the 
highest  creatures  of  his  power  ? 

I  remember  once  reading  a  most  impressive  practi- 
cal commentary  upon  the  words  we  are  considering. 
The  celebrated  traveller,  Mungo  Park,  relates  that, 
in  his  first  remarkable  visit  to  ulterior  Africa,  to 
trace  back  the  river  Niger  to  its  source,  after  unpar- 
alleled fatigues,  trials,  and  reverses,  he  was  one  day 
robbed  in  the  forest  by  some  black  banditti.  His 
compass  was  taken  from  him,  and  with  only  a  few 
coarse  clothes  he  was  left  alone, — alone  in  unexplored 
and  savage  Africa,  —  five  hundred  miles  from  any 
settlement,  amid  wild  beasts,  and  men  as  pitiless. 
Seeing  no  prospect  but  to  lie  down  and  perish,  his 
mind  became  unnerved  and  despondent.  As  he 
threw  himself  upon  the  ground,  a  small  and  pecul- 
iar moss  met  his  eye,  whose  root,  leaves,  and  cap- 
sule were  so  curious  as  to  excite  his  attention.  He 
examined  it  carefully,  and  forgot  his  forlorn  condition 
for  a  moment  in  his  admiration  of  it.  As  he  gazed 


NATURAL   AND  SPIRITUAL    PROVIDENCE.         239 

upon  it,  the  thought  arose  in  his  mind,  he  tells  us, 
"  Can  that  Being  who  planted,  watered,  and  brought 
to  perfection,  in  this  obscure  region  of  the  world,  a 
thing  which  appears  of  so  small  importance,  look 
with  unconcern  upon  the  situation  and  sufferings  of 
his  spiritual  offspring  ?  "  This  thought  cheered  him, 
rekindled  his  courage,  and  through  the  efforts  it  in- 
spired, he  was  saved,  and  enabled  to  publish  the  fact 
as  a  lesson  to  the  world. 

Well  may  we  say,  then,  to  the  doubters  of  a  spir- 
itual providence,  as  an  exclamation  of  wonder,  al- 
most of  reproach,  "  O  ye  of  little  faith ! "  And 
yet,  this  objection,  no  doubt,  will  arise  in  some 
minds,  "  Why  urge  men  to  such  a  passive  trust  in 
providence,  when  it  can  do  no  good  and  may  do 
harm  ?  Say  what  you  may,  God  does  not  and  will 
not  clothe  men  as  he  does  the  flowers  of  the  field. 
We  must  work  and  do  things  for  ourselves,  and  the 
statement  of  the  text  is  false." 

Of  course,  Jesus  did  not  mean  that  God  would 
literally  clothe  men,  if  they  trust  in  him.  Neither 
is  that  the  kind  of  providence  which  he  teaches  us 
to  believe  in  ;  for  God  does  not  clothe  the  lilies  in 
that  way.  They  work  for  their  existence  and  their 
beauty.  They  toil  not  and  spin  not  in  human  ways; 
but  God  does  not  paint  them  as  a  man  paints  wood. 
They  are  active ;  they  absorb  ;  they  put  forth  all 
their  inward  energies  ;  and  it  is  when  they  do  that, 
and  on  condition  that  they  do  thus  much,  that  the 
other  forces  of  nature  become  friendly,  and  the 
dew,  the  globe,  the  air,  and  sunshine,  protect  and 


240         NATURAL   AND   SPIRITUAL    PROVIDENCE. 

nourish  and  paint  them.  The  providence  that 
maintains  the  flower  is  shown  in  the  disposition  of 
all  the  other  forces  of  the  universe,  so  that  the 
flower  can  have  its  place,  and  will  not  be  crushed. 
When  the  flower  works,  uses  all  the  force  God  has 
given  it,  a  path  is  open  for  it ;  everything  works  in 
harmony  with  it,  and  gives  it  a  welcome  and  a  joy- 
ous existence  in  the  world  of  matter.  God  feeds 
the  ravens  only  as  they  are  obedient  to  their  in- 
stinct, and  seek  their  food.  The  doctrine  of  the 
Saviour's  illustration  is  that  God  cares  more  deeply 
and  tenderly  for  the  spiritual  creation  that  bears 
his  image  than  for  the  material  creation  that  is  a 
trophy  of  his  art.  It  does  not  urge  us,  or  encour- 
age us,  to  rely  passively  on  God's  goodness,  arifl 
expect  special  material  blessings  from  it,  —  food, 
wealth,  and  clothing ;  but  incites  us  to  work,  to  put 
forth  all  the  spiritual  force  that  is  in  us,  assuring 
us  that  then  he  will  work  in  harmony  with  us,  as 
in  the  lower  sphere  he  works  in  unison  with  the 
faithfulness  of  the  flower,  that  all  his  laws  will  be 
friendly  to  us,  and  that  existence,  whatever  its  for- 
tunes, will  afford  us  inward  peace. 


XII. 

PHILOSOPHY  AND  THEOLOGY. 


DURING  the  last  few  years,  our  community  has 
manifested  a  lively  interest  in  philosophical  pursuits. 
We  can  trace  very  plainly  the  effects  of  that  taste 
which  the  importation  of  French  and  German  liter- 
ature, a  few  years  ago,  has  served  to  awaken.  Be- 
sides her  historians,  her  poets,  and  her  artists,  New 
England  has  now,  at  least,  one  philosopher.  Jour- 
nals, devoted  to  philosophy  and  kindred  pursuits, 
are  conducted  by  men  of  different  schools,  and  find 
a  fair  support  among  us.  American  translations 
and  reprints  of  the  works  of  distinguished  philo- 
sophical writers  hi  Europe,  meet  with  a  ready  sale  ; 
and  in  our  universities  the  study  of  speculative 
philosophy  has  been  entrusted  to  the  direction  of 
our  soundest  thinkers.  The  habits  of  thought, 
formed  by  a  study  of  some  philosophical  system,  may 
be  detected  in  every  department  of  the  literature  of 
the  country, — the  elements  of  Kantianism  in  history, 
transcendentalism  in  poetry,  eclecticism  in  religious 
literature  and  reviews.  It  is  not  difficult  even  to 
interest  "  a  popular  audience  "  in  the  discussion  of 
tenets  belonging  to  speculative  philosophy.  Some 
of  our  readers  perhaps  may  remember  the  crowded 

16  241 


242  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

assemblies  that  listened  to  the  lectures  of  a  cele- 
brated professor,  a  few  winters  since,  before  a  liter- 
ary institution  of  this  city. 

This  tendency  is  not  surprising.  "We  have  ar- 
rived at  a  point  in  our  intellectual  culture  which 
must  come  to  every  nation.  Philosophy  is  a  natural 
want  of  the  human  mind.  Without  it,  the  cycle  of 
its  development  is  not  complete.  It  has  sprung 
from  the  intellectual  soil  of  every  people.  There  is 
implanted  in  human  nature  a  tendency  which  can- 
not be  satisfied  without  speculative  coherence  in  its 
views  of  the  universe.  The  mysteries  which  the 
contemplation  of  nature  perpetually  presents  to  us 
possess  a  charm  that  has  always  allured  the  keenest 
intellects,  and  brought  into  action  the  noblest  powers 
of  the  soul.  If  we  would  seek  the  commencement 
of  the  history  of  philosophy,  we  must  go  back  to  the 
early  twilight  of  civilization.  The  priests  of  Egypt 
had  their  esoteric  doctrines  ;  the  Persians,  their  so- 
lution of  the  origin  of  evil ;  while  in  India  the 
judgment  of  immobility,  which  seems  to  have  ar- 
rested the  development  of  all  the  active  powers  of 
the  soul,  could  not  hold  back  the  tendency  to  spec- 
ulation. Almost  all  the  phases  of  modern  philoso- 
phy were  represented  there  under  Indian  forms,  and 
from  an  Indian  point  of  view.  The  restless  activity 
of  the  Grecian  mind  was  not  more  strongly  mani- 
fested in  its  various  governments,  and  its  thirst  for 
conquest,  than  in  its  wealth  of  philosophical  theories, 
and  in  the  rapid  development  of  schools  which  ex- 
hausted the  capacity  of  progress,  in  that  line,  for  a 


PHILOSOPHY"  AND    THEOLOGY.  243 

thousand  years.  The  national  life  was  equally  in- 
carnated in  Plato  and  Pericles,  in  Aristotle  and 
Alexander.  Even  in  the  middle  ages,  under  the 
jealous  eye  of  the  church,  heresies  springing  from 
opposition  to  the  dominant  pliilosophy  continually 
needed  to  be  checked.  With  regard  to  the  present 
rank  of  philosophy  in  the  republic  of  letters,  we 
need  hardly  speak:  It  is  placed  at  the  summit  of 
mental  cultivation.  The  importance  which,  since 
the  Reformation,  it  has  attained,  among  the  culti- 
vated nations  of  Europe,  seems  to  justify  the  remark 
of  a  German  writer,  that  "  In  the  new  hierarchy  of 
the  understanding,  the  philosophical  is  the  apostolic 
chair,  and  philosophers  are  the  cardinals." 

It  becomes  an  interesting  and  important  question, 
then,  What  is  the  effect  of  this  tendency  to  philoso- 
phy upon  religious  truth  ?  or,  in  other  words,  What 
is  the  connection  between  philosophy  and  religion  ? 
We  cannot  expect,  within  the  limits  of  one  article, 
to  do  anything  more  than  to  point  out  the  general 
features  of  this  relation,  .without  stopping  to  ex- 
amine the  question  in  all  its  details.  In  the  first 
place,  then,  we  may  remark  that  whatever  increases 
the  general  cultivation  of  the  mind  improves  our 
sensibility  to  religious  impressions,  and  enlarges  our 
capacity  for  religious  ideas.  None  of  our  readers, 
probably,  will  dispute  this  proposition  with  us,  and 
it  hardly  needs  illustration.  The  progress  of  sci- 
ence has  always  added  strength  to  the  religious  con- 
victions of  the  devout  spirit,  and  developed,  in  a 
clearer  light,  the  characteristics  which  reason  and 


244  PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY. 

revelation  ascribe  to  the  Deity.  We  have,  for  in- 
stance, an  idea  of' the  infinite.  It  is  a  necessary 
judgment  of  the  intellect,  is  implied  in  our  reason- 
jngs,  and  is  indispensable  to  our  conception  of  God. 
It  is  not,  however,  an  idea  which  we  can  completely 
comprehend.  It  exists  as  a  mere  sign,  a  barren 
affirmation,  until  it  is  brought  out  clearly  into  con- 
sciousness, and  strengthened  by  the  aid  of  some  pos- 
itive conceptions  of  the  finite,  with  which  it  may  be 
contrasted.  How  powerfully  has  astronomy  done 
this !  It  is  when  the  magnificent  conception  of  the 
immensity  and  grandeur  of  the  material  universe  is 
awakened  in  us ;  when  we  become  acquainted  with 
the  vast  scale  upon  which  this  system  of  nature  is 
constructed ;  when  thought  endeavors  to  seize  the 
boundaries  of  that  expanse  in  which  the  solar  sys- 
tem is  but  a  speck,  which  no  figures  can  express, 
and  beyond  which  no  instruments  can  reach :  it  is 
then,  and  by  contrast  with  this  finite  which  science 
has  explored,  and  at  the  grandeur  of  whose  discov- 
eries the  imagination  is  overpowered,  that  the  intel- 
lect feels  oppressed,  and  bows  with  religious  awe 
before  the  idea  of  the  infinite.  So,  also,  with  our 
conception  of  the  omnipotence  of  God.  Every  one 
feels  conscious  of  such  an  idea.  It  is  from  a  neces- 
sity of  our  intellectual  nature  that  we  ascribe  it  to 
the  Deity.  Without'  it,  he  would  not  be  God.  Yet 
who  comprehends  the  significance  of  the  term  till 
he  has  formed  some  conception  of  the  stupendous 
force  that  has  disposed  worlds  into  systems,  and  that 
moves  and  guides  and  governs  all  the  complicated 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  215 

4 

machinery  of  the  universe  !  Again ;  how  has  our 
idea  of  the  wisdom  of  the  Deity  been  extended  and 
enlarged  by  an  acquaintance  with  the  simplicity  of 
arrangement  exhibited  by  the  geometry  of  the 
heavens,  and  the  nice  adjustment  between  the  forces 
that  sustain  the  universe,  or  by  the  innumerable  in- 
stances of  skill  and  adaptation,  furnished  by  physi- 
ology and  natural  history  ?  Whatever  has  increased 
our  knowledge  of  the  works  of  the  Creator  has 
deepened  and  added  strength  to  our  conceptions  of 
his  nature  and  his  attributes.  Such  is  the  intimate 
and  beneficial  relation  which  science  sustains  to  re- 
ligion. But  the  same  reasons  that  we  have  urged 
to  prove  this  position  may  we  think,  with  equal 
force,  be  urged  in  behalf  of  the  claims  of  philosophy. 
First,  however,  to  guard  against  misapprehension, 
let  us  define  what  we  mean  by  speculative  philoso- 
phy. Many,  we  are  persuaded,  look  upon  it  as 
merely  a  dry  system  of  metaphysics,  a  mass  of  base- 
less speculations,  concerned  with  inquiries,  for  in- 
stance, as  to  the  nature  of  spirit,  the  cause  of  mo- 
tion, or  the  medium  of  connection  between  the  soul 
and  the  outward  world.  So  far,  however,  is  this 
from  being  the  case,  nothing  has  tended  more  to 
banish  such  questions  from  the  learned  world  than 
the  progress  of  philosophy.  We  define  philosophy, 
the  complete  science  of  human  nature,  the  resolu- 
tion of  all  human  experience  to  order.  Its  ultimate 
aim  is  to  explain  the  human  mind,  to  define  its 
powers,  determine  its  tendencies,  and  unfold  its 
laws.  This  is  no  barren  study.  It  demands,  not 


246  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

only  an  examination  of  consciousness,  but  also  an 
acquaintance  with  the  whole  circle  of  science.  We 
cannot  completely  know  the  powers  of  the  mind 
till  we  have  some  definite  conception  of  the  products 
of  its  energy.  In  fact,  a  compl'ete  criticism  of  the 
laws  of  thought,  itself,  cannot  be  reached  by  a  pure 
psychological  analysis,  by  an  examination  of  the 
thinking  subject  alone.  Our  theories,  to  be  entitled 
to  the  claim  of  scientific  accuracy,  must  be  framed 
with  reference  to  the  developments  of  thought  in 
some  department  of  knowledge.  No  dispute,  for 
instance,  has  more  deeply  agitated  the  philosophical 
world  than  the  question  as  to  the  origin  of  many 
of  our  ideas.  We  have  no  intention  of  raising  that 
question  here,  but  only  wish  to  remark,  that  a  com- 
plete discussion  of  it  is  possible,  only  on  condition 
of  carefully  examining  the  characteristics  of  those 
ideas,  as  they  form  part  of  the  structure  of  many  of 
the  sciences.  It  is  clearly  in  this  way  alone,  that 
those  peculiarities,  which  are  the  subjects  of  discus- 
sion, can  be  fully  "brought  to  view. 

But  a  complete  science  of  human  nature  must 
develop  something  more  than  a  theory  of  ideas.  All 
the  phases  of  social,  moral,  and  political  life,  are  the 
outward  expression  of  some  tendency  of  the  soul, 
and  of  course  furnish  materials  for  philosophical 
science.  The  ultimate  aim  of  philosophy,  then,  is 
to  elevate  the  science  of  human  nature  into  uni- 
versal science.  The  field  of  its  research  includes 
the  whole  domain  of  history,  poetry,  and  art.  Phi- 
losophy, then,  is  not  any  particular  science  ;  it  does 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  247 

not  deal  with  that  mass  of  details,  a  complete  and 
searching  study  of  which  is  indispensable  to  estab- 
lish a  separate  science.  It  is  only  concerned  with 
the  laws  of  scientific  progress,  with  those  intellectual 
conceptions  which  may  be  detected  hi  the  funda- 
mental propositions  upon  which  science  is  founded, 
and  that  ideal  element  which,  although  necessary  to 
the  very  structure  of  science  itself,  forms  also  a  por- 
tion of  the  philosophy  of  the  human  mind.  The 
relation  of  philosophy  to  religion  is,  in  principle, 
similar  to  the  relation  it  bears  to  science.  We  un- 
derstand by  it  a  full  examination  of  the  religious 
element  hi  human  nature,  a  complete  exhibition  of 
the  laws  of  its  development,  and  a  view  of  the  har- 
mony of  its  doctrines,  with  the  conclusions  drawn 
from  other  provinces  of  scientific  thought.  The 
philosophy  of  religion,  then,  no  less  than  the  phi- 
losophy of  science,  is  indispensable  to  a  thorough 
acquaintance  with  the  laws  and  capacities  of.  our 
nature.  The  spheres  of  the  philosopher  and  the 
theologian  cannot  be  completely  disjoined.  The 
one,  engaged  in  a  profound  study  of  thought  and  of 
the  human  faculties,  cannot  rest  satisfied  till  he  has 
attained  an  idea  of  the  highest  objects  of  thought 
to  an  idea  of  God  and  duty  and  eternal  order, 
thus  giving  to  philosophy  a  theological  aim  ;  while 
the  other  cannot  consider  his  science  as  completely 
established  until  he  has  discovered,  in  the  very  con- 
stitution of  the  human  mind,  a  capacity  for  religious 
ideas  and  a  necessity  for  religious  cultivation,  thus 
giving  to  theology  a  philosophical  basis. 


248  PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY. 

It  will  be  our  desire,  in  the  remainder  of  this 
article,  to  exhibit  those  points  where  the  convergent 
lines  of  philosophy  and  theology  meet  and  blend  ; 
and  the  influence  which  must  be  exerted  by  philo- 
sophical study  upon  theological  speculations. 

In  the  first  place,  we  wish  to  speak  of  the  influence 
of  philosophy  in  reconciling  faith  and  knowledge. 
Religion  springs  from  a  primary  and  indestructible 
want  of  human  nature.  In  its  original  character 
it  is,  if  we  may  so  express  it,  a  spiritual  instinct  in 
the  soul.  Its  foundation  is  a  sense  of  dependence 
on  a  higher  powep ;  its  central  principle  is  faith. 
Side  by  side  with  its  spiritual  want,  exists  another 
element,  which  gives  the  mind  a  reflective  ten- 
dency, which  impels  it  to  know,  or,  in  other  words, 
to  account  to  itself  for  its  ideas  and  its  faith. 
This  latter  tendency,  felt  in  some  degree  by  every 
man,  can  only  be  satisfied  when  religion  is  raised 
from  its  primitive  state  as  an  instinct,  and  estab- 
lished as  an  idea.  Now,  until  the  demands  of  both 
these  indisputable  tendencies  of  the  soul  are  satis- 
fied, the  growth  and  development  of  the  mind  is 
not  complete.  Of  what  use  could  be  a  belief  in 
God,  if  reason  discovers  it  to  be  nothing  but  a 
phantasm  raised  by  human  weakness  ?  What  sup- 
port could  be  drawn  .from  faith  in  Providence,  if-  it 
be  found  to  depend  on  a  necessity  of  our  sensitive 
nature ;  or  what  efficacy  would  there  be  in  prayer, 
if  it  be  felt  that  the  object  of  our  supplications  is 
not  a  real  being,  capable  of  understanding  and  sat- 
isfying our  wants,  but  merely  a  law  of  the  soul  ? 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  249 

"  Rather,  would  not  the  world,  with  its  thousand 
contradictions,  strike  us  with  astonishment,  if  we 
could  not  see  the  eternal  light  glimmer  through  all 
its  phenomena,  and  feel,  from  all  around,  an  inti- 
mation of  the  great,  first,  and  enduring  Cause  ?  " 
The  repose  of  the  soul  upon  its  religious  nature 
imperiously  demands,  then,  not  only  that  this  uni- 
versal tendency  to  worship  shall  be  shown  to  be 
an  innate  element  of  its  nature,  but  it  requires  also 
a  demonstration  of  the  reality  of  the  object  of  wor- 
ship. Not  only  must  we  be  conscious  of  a  sense  of 
obligation  imposed  by  a  moral  law,  but  reason  must 
discover  grounds  for  faith  in  that  eternal  order 
towards  which  all  things  tend,  and  from  which  the 
moral  law  derives  its  sanction.  Besides  that  "  long- 
ing after  immortality,"  which  we  recognize  as  a 
primitive  instinct  in  our  constitution,  we  must  feel 
that  everything  which  we  know  of  our  capacities, 
everything  which,  by  the  light  of  nature,  reason 
can  discover  as  to  our  destiny,  awakes  in  us  an  idea 
of  eternal  life,  and  confirms  the  spontaneous  proph- 
ecy of  the  soul.  Religion  grounded  in  mere  feel- 
ing may,  in  periods  of  excitement,  when  under  the 
influence  of  a  luxuriant  flow  of  spirits,  and  when 
the  voice  of  the  intellect  is  still,  be  completely  satis- 
factory to  us.  But  a  religion,  upon  which  we  may 
rely,  in  every  state  of  mind,  which  can  cheer  us  in 
despondency,  and  console  us  in  seasons  of  gloom, 
must  be  ever  before  us  a  firmly-founded  law,  rest- 
ing not  merely  on.the  uncertain  basis  of  sensibility, 
but  established  on  a  foundation  as  immovable  as 


250  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

our  surest  ideas.  Let  us  not  be  understood  by 
these  remarks  to  undervalue  the  argument  for  relig- 
ion drawn  from  its  satisfying  the  instinctive  wants 
of  our  constitution.  A  religion  purely  rational, 
which  should  aim  to  reach  the  heart  only  through 
the  head,  would  fail  of  accomplishing  the  end  for 
which  it  is  designed.  What  we  contend  for,  is, 
that  religion  should  satisfy  all  the  cravings  of  our 
nature;  that  it  must  be  able  to  subdue  the  intellect, 
as  well  as  engage  the  heart,  that  it  must  be  shown 
to  have,  so  to  speak,  its  objective  as  well  as  subjec- 
tive side.  Now  to  do  this  is,  in  part  at  least,  the 
work  of  philosophy. 

Perhaps,  however,  we  shall  be  able  to  see  more 
clearly  into  the  subject,  by  attending  to  the  influ- 
ence which  must  be  exerted  upon  theology  by  our 
theory  concerning  the  origin  of  knowledge.  This 
is,  in  every  system  of  philosophy,  the  all-important 
point.  D'Alembert  called  it  the  "  terrible  question 
of  metaphysics."  No  problem  which  we  can  raise, 
in  the  whole  circle  of  science,  has  such  important 
corollaries  depending  upon  its  solution.  Among 
other  consequences,  it  involves  the  question  as  to 
the  capacity  of  the  mind  for  religious  ideas.  If  we 
look  back  through  the  whole  history  of  philosophical 
speculation,  we  shall  find  that  its  direction  towards 
spiritualism,  or  materialism,  has  been  determined 
according  to  its  account  of  the  foundation  and  ori- 
gin of  knowledge.  The  solution  that  has  been  uni- 
formly offered  by  one  party  among  philosophers,  is, 
that  all  our  ideas  aro  resolvable  into  sensations. 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  251 

According  to  them  the  mind  is  purely  passive  in  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge.  It  is  a  mere  susceptibil- 
ity to  impressions  from  without,  destitute  of  any 
inherent  tendencies,  without  primarily  any  distinc- 
tive nature.  According  to  this  view,  it  could 
scarcely  be  said  that  there  is  any  principle  belong- 
ing to  our  nature  that  can  combine  the  scattered 
impressions  of  sense  into  a  harmonious  whole,  and 
thus  give  unity  to  our  consciousness.  All  our  ideas 
are  transformed  sensations ;  the  very  capacities  of 
mind  itself,  but  internal  modifications  of  our  sensi- 
tive nature.  Reflection,  attention,  memory,  the 
power  of  generalization,  are  not  faculties  of  the 
intellect,  existing  independent  of  experience,  and 
employed  by  the  mind  as  instruments  in  the  forma- 
tion of  new  ideas ;  but  these  faculties  are  them- 
selves the  result  of  sensations ;  they  are  more  re- 
fined internal  affections  of  the  sensibility ;  the 
recurrence,  in  a  more  sublimated  state,  of  some 
former  impressions  upon  the  organs  of  sense.  This 
is  not  too  strong  a  statement.  We  have*  before  us, 
at  this  moment,  the  original  statement  of  these 
principles,  in  terms  as  strong  as  we  have  used. 
Now,  it  needs  no  very  severe  logic  to  draw,  from 
these  premises,  the  conclusions  which  they  contain 
as  to  the  sphere  and  limits  of  knowledge.  If  "  every 
idea  is  chimerical  that  cannot  attach  itself  to  its 
sensible  archetype,"  if  "every  expression  which 
cannot  find  an  external  and  sensible  object  to  which 
it  can  establish  its  affinity  is  destitute  of  significa- 
tion "  (we  use  the  precise  words  of  an  exponent  of 


252  PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY. 

this  system),  what  foundation  have  we  for  the  idea 
of  God  ?  The  senses  acquaint  us  only  with  finite  ex- 
istence ;  what  room,  then,  is  there  in  such  a  system 
for  an  idea  of  the  infinite  ?  By  impressions  upon 
our  senses  from  the  material  world,  we  acquire  a 
notion  merely  of  appearances,  of  changes,  of  ante- 
cedents, and  consequents  ;  how  then,  in  such  a 
system,  can  we  acquire  the  idea  of  a  cause  ?  we  do 
not  say  of  a  first  and  eternal  cause  merely,  but  of 
any  cause.  How  is  the  conception  of  a  cause  possi- 
ble ?  If  human  nature  be  a  mere  blank  capacity, 
and  is,  previous  to  education,  as  susceptible  of  one 
impression  as  another,  what  reason  have  we  for  the 
conception  of  a  moral  law,  to  which  all  intelligences 
are  subject,  that  has'a  right  to  command  our  alle- 
giance ?  There  is  no  possible  way,  if  we  start  from 
such  a  view  of  the  origin  of  knowledge,  to  recon- 
cile our  logic  with  religion.  No  modification  of 
this  materialistic  philosophy  can  harmonize  with 
the  faith  which  religion  demands  of  us.  Before  we 
can  admit-  any  idea  which  belongs  to  the  sphere  of 
religion  within  the  circle  of  knowledge,  we  must 
adopt  some  element  into  our  reasoning  which  can 
be  drawn  from  a  spiritual  philosophy  alone.  Take, 
for  instance,  the  argument  from  design, -to  demon- 
strate the  existence  of  God.  The  argument,  as  it 
has  often  been  conducted,  fails  in  an  essential  point. 
Leaving  out  of  view  the  fact,  that,  upon  the  rigid 
principles  of  the  philosophy  of  sensation,  it  is  im- 
possible to  attain  the  abstract  idea  of  cause ;  even 
granting  that,  from  the  various  exhibitions  of  wis- 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  253 

dom  and  intelligence  in  the  construction  of  the  uni- 
verse, we  may  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  the 
designer  of  this  admirable  order  must  have  pos- 
sessed intelligence ;  still  we  cannot  prove  his  unity 
or  infinity.  The  system  of  nature,  so  far  as  we 
are  acquainted  with  it,  is  finite,  and  we  cannot 
reason  from  a  finite  effect  to  an  infinite  cause.  But 
any  argument  which  fails  in  demonstrating  the  in- 
finity of  the  cause  of  nature,  must  fail  in  demon- 
strating his  self-existence ;  and,  consequently,  wo 
cannot  prove  that  there  has  not  been  a  series  of 
dependent  causes,  each  in  turn  derived  from  a  pre- 
ceding cause.  The  only  remedy  for  this  radical 
defect  in  the  proof  from  design,  taken  exclusively, 
is  the  introduction  into  the  argument  of  an  a  priori 
principle,  drawn  from  the  laws  and  constitution  of 
the  intellect  itself.  A  severe  examination  of  the 
laws  of  thought  discovers  to  us  that  the  self-exist- 
ence and  infinity  of  the  power  that  sustains  the 
universe  is  a  postulate  reason.  It  is  an  idea  of 
which  the  clear  statement  is  sufficient,  the  truth  of 
which  is  seen  by  intuition,  and  which  cannot  be 
strengthened  by  any  ratiocination.  It  is,  if  we  may 
so  speak,  a  form  of  our  thought,  when  applied  to 
the  argument  as  to  the  first  cause. 

Whatever  hypothesis  we  adopt  as  to  the  origin 
or  primal  cause  of  the  universe,  we  cannot  rid  our- 
selves of  this  necessary  law  of  reason.  We  must 
predicate  self-existence  and  infinity  of  something. 
If  we  take  up  the  atheistic  theory,  and  deny  an  in- 
telligent cause,  we  must  still  admit  that  nature,  the 


254  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

material  universe,  is  self-existent  and  infinite.  Now 
introduce  this  fundamental  conception  of  reason 
with  the  argument  from  design,  and  it  becomes 
complete  and  satisfactory.  It  will  then  rest  on  the 
very  nature  of  reason,  as  well  as  on  the  testimony 
of  experience.  But  this  conception,  so  essential  to 
the  validity  of  the  proof,  is  at  utter  variance  with 
the  whole  fabric  of  the  philosophy  we  are  consider- 
ing. In  its  vocabulary  there  is  no  meaning  to  the 
term,  d  priori  laws  of  reason  ;  for  prior  to  experi- 
ence, the  intellect  is  a  mere  blank,  a  capacity  alone 
for  receiving  whatever  may  be  conveyed  through 
the  senses.  There  is  no  necessity  of  multiplying 
instances  to  prove  the  weakness  of  its  philosophy  in 
establishing  the  validity  of  our  religious  notions. 
Religion  deals  entirely  with  questions  "beyond  the 
reach  of  the  senses,  and,  consequently,  before  the 
inexorable  law  of  the  philosophy  of  sensation,  every 
question  with  which  religion  is  concerned  must  be 
banished  into  the  region  of  chimera  and  supersti- 
tion. Let  it  not  be  said,  however,  that  this  point  is 
of  no  practical  importance  ;  that  it  affects  merely 
the  manner  of  stating  the  argument  for  religion, 
but  cannot  weaken  any  person's  religious  convic- 
tions. There  are  many,  no  doubt,  who  do  not  need 
the  results  of  reflection  to  strengthen  their  faith. 
"  They  never  feel  the  burden  of  doubt,  nor  need 
the  aid  of  philosophy  to  explain  the  mysteries  of 
their  being.  On  their  virgin  souls  no  blight  can 
fall,  and  they  will  pass  upward  unstained  by  the 
breath  of  unbelief."  The  world,  however,  is  not 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  255 

made  up  of  such  as  these.  There  are  those  of  colder 
temperaments,  who  feel  the  spontaneous  impulses 
of  a  common  nature  less,  and  distrust  them  more, 
and  who,  of  course,  can  repose  only  on  the  conclu- 
sions of  their  intellect.  And  it  i§  they  who  need  to 
be  preserved  from  the  influence  of  a  philosophy 
before  which  they  will  surely  fall.  We  are  at  no 
loss  for  instances  to  establish  this  point.  The  the- 
ory of  knowledge  which  Hume  adopted,  necessarily 
resulted  in  his  scepticism.  He  applied,  with  un- 
sparing rigor,  the  laws  of  evidence,  with  which  his 
philosophy  furnished  him,  to  all  the  departments 
of  thought ;  and  of  course  concluded,  to  use  his 
sarcasm,  that  "  Our  most  holy  religion  is  founded 
on  faith,  and  not  on  reason."  Had  Gibbon  been 
under  the  influence  of  a  nobler  philosophy,  his  pages 
would  have  been  free  from  many  of  those  sneers  at 

virtue  and  disinterestedness,  and   that   calm  con- 

-< 

tempt  of  religion,  with  which  they  are  now  defiled. 
The  whole  literature  of  the  age  of  Louis  XIY.  and 
XV.  was  poisoned  by  a  false  philosophy.  The  tone 
of  thought  among  the  higher  orders  may  be  gath- 
ered from  a  remark  of  Madame  Du  Deffand,  in 
a  letter  to  Voltaire,  upon  learning  that  he  was 
engaged  in  a  discussion  on  the  existence  pf  God : 
"Do  not  weary  yourself,  my  dear  Voltaire,  with 
metaphysical  reasonings  upon  unintelligible  mat- 
ters. Can  we  communicate  or  can  we  entertain 
any  ideas  which  we  do  not  receive  through  our 
senses  ?  " 

At  whatever  period  of  the  world  we  find  this  sys- 


256  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

tern  obtaining  sway,  the  evidences  of  its  blighting 
influences  may  be  discovered  in  every  department 
of  literature.  Under  its  domination,  art  can  only 
attain  a  stunted  growth,  and  poetry  is  deprived  of 
its  sweet  and  mysterious  faith.  Its  religion  may  be 
seen  in  the  "  System  of  Nature ; "  its  morality  in 
the  Maxims  of  Rochefoucauld,  and  in  Helvetius's 
"  Sur  1'Esprit."  The  dignity  of  human  nature  is 
sacrificed  before  it.  When  Helvetius  contended  that 
pleasure  was  the  sole  motive  of  all  actions,  and 
that  the  sense  of  touch  was  so  necessary  to  the 
education  of  the  human  faculties  that  the  species 
would  have  been  still  wandering  in  the  forest  had 
man  been  created  with  hoofs  instead  of  wrists,  Vol- 
taire declared  that  he  told  the  secret  of  all  the 
world.  Cicerp  long  ago  remarked,  that  in  the 
schools  of  Epicurus,  in  his  day,  the  names  of  Ly- 
curgus  and  Solon,  of  Miltiades  and  Epaminondas, 
were  never  mentioned  ;  so  terrible  a  fact  is  heroism 
and  disinterestedness  for  the  contemplation  of  sen- 
sualism.1 And  nothing,  perhaps,  illustrates  better 
the  utter  degradation  of  morals  that  characterized 
the  period  preceding  the  downfall  of  the  Roman 
republic,  than  the  general  deification  of  Epicurus, 
whose  image,  according  to  Cicero,  was  preserved  not 
only  in  pictures,  but  engraven  on  the  cups  and  rings 
of  the  household  servants.2  A  very  just  compari- 
son between  the  moral  tone  of  this  philosophy  and 
that  of  some  of  the  ancient  pagans  has  been  drawn 
by  Addison.  "  It  is  impossible,"  says  he,  "  to  read 

1  De  Fin.  lib.  i.         2  De  Fin  lib.  v. ;  see  also  Niebuhr,  iv.  p.  201. 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  257 

a  passage  in  Plato,  or  Tully,  and  a  thousand  other 
ancient  moralists,  without  being  a  greater  and  a 
better  man.  On  the  contrary,  I  could  never  read 
any  of  our  modish  French  authors,  or  those  of  our 
own  country  who  are  the  imitators  and  admirers  of 
that  nation,  without  being  for  some  tune  out  of 
humor  with  myself  and  at  everything  about  me. 
Their  business  is  to  depreciate  human  nature,  and 
to  consider  'it  under  the  worst  appearances ;  they 
give  mean  interpretations  and  base  motives  to  the 
worthiest  actions.  In  short,  they  endeavor  to  make 
no  distinction  between  man  and  man,  or  between 
the  species  of  man,  and  that  of  brutes." l  We  do 
not  say,  that  all  who  have  adopted  the  ultra  premi- 
ses to  which  we  have  alluded  are  atheists,  or  indif- 
ferent to  religion ;  such,  at  least,  have  not  been 
their  professions,  and  we  know  that  many  of  the 
warmest  partisans  of  this  philosophy  have  been  dig- 
nitaries of  the  church.  But,  in  many  cases,  it  is 
to  be  feared  that  the  palpable  inconsistency  has 
been  relieved  by  a  belief  that  the  essence  of  religion 
consists  in  mystery,  and  is  therefore  incomprehen- 
sible by  human  faculties.  The  only  reconciliation 
that  can  be  effected  between  such  a  man  and  his 
religion,  must  be  obtained  by  some  such  position  as 
this  ;  for  it  is  useless  to  talk  of  a  mail's  holding 
one  truth  in  philosophy  on  grounds  which  his  rea- 
son approves,  and  assenting  to  an  entirely  different 
one  in  religion.  The  spheres  of  philosophy  and 
religion  are  so  intimately  connected  that  false 

1  Tatler,  108.    Stewart,  vi.  103. 
17 


258  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

premises  in  the  one  must  produce  false  conclusions 
in  the  other ;  and  the  manner  in  which  the  princi- 
ples we  adopt  in  either  department  must  affect  our 
conclusions  in  the  other  province,  furnishes  a  cri- 
terion by  which  we  may  judge  of  the  truth  or  sound- 
ness of  those  principles  themselves. 

We  have  seen  to  what  result  the  theory  of  knowl- 
edge, which  has  heen  supported  by  a  large  class  of 
philosophers,  must  inevitably  tend.  A  sensual  and 
materialistic  system  of  philosophy,  selfishness,  and 
utilitarianism  in  morals,  and,  if  the  principles  be 
rigidly  adhered  to,  scepticism  in  religion,  are  the 
logical  development  of  the  position  that  the  senses 
are  the  only  source  of  knowledge.  Change  that  prop- 
osition, and  the  whole  complexion -of  the  theories  of 
morals  and  philosophy  and  religion,  will  be  changed 
also.  If,  after  a  cautious  and  profound  analysis  of 
our  ideas,  we  assume,  as  the  starting-point,  that  ex- 
perience is  the  occasion,  instead  of  the  cause,  of  all 
of  our  knowledge,  that  the  mind  itself  has  faculties 
the  operation  of  which  is  implied  in  our  fundamen- 
tal ideas,  that  sensible  impressions  are  only  the  ex- 
citing causes  which  call  these  faculties  into  action, 
the  prospect  of  the  whole  field  of  knowledge  will 
be  changed  as  if  the  wand  of  a  spiritual  magician 
had  been  waved  over  it.  The  whole  tendency  of 
thought  is  directed  to  spiritualism.  The  icy  grasp 
of  materialism,  which  freezes  all  the  pulses  of  feel- 
ing, yields  to  a  genial  warmth.  A  system  of  phi- 
losophy may,  then,  be  logically  raised,  in  which  man 
may  be  viewed  as  superior  to  nature ;  the  inspira- 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  259 

tions  of  poetry  and  art,  as  something  more  than  im- 
pressions upon  the  outward  sense  ;  and  religion,  in- 
stead of  being  considered  a  mere  chimera  unworthy 
a  place  in  the  domain  of  science,  be  looked  upon  as 
a  development  of  the  highest  faculties  of  the  soul. 
The  recognition  of  the  double  origin  of  knowledge 
as  the  fundamental  truth  in  philosophy  affords  the 
only  basis  sufficiently  broad  for  the  harmonious  de- 
velopment of  every  principle  of  our  nature.  A  man 
may  then  be  master  of  all  his  ideas.  His  logic 
will  not  be  the  implacable  foe  of  his  faith.  He 
may  face  his  convictions  with  a  calm  eye,  and  feel 
assured  that  they  rest  upon  a  foundation  as  immov- 
able as  the  very  laws  of  his  being.  Under  the  di- 
rection of  those  laws  of  thought  which  materialism 
jwesents,  reason  may  demand  of  religion  its  passport 
to  belief,  may  desire  to  know  the  sense  to  which  its 
evidence  is  addressed ;  but  a  philosophy  founded  on 
a  correct  theory  of  knowledge,  reverses  this  unnat- 
ural order.  It  shows  that  religion  resides  in  us, 
not  only  as  an  ineradicable  feeling^  but  that  the 
great  ideas  which  it  supposes,  are  implied  in  every 
exercise  of -thought;  that  all  around  us  is  the  in- 
finite ;  that  we  cannot  think,  without  an  implied 
recognition,  of  something  absolute,  some  indepen- 
dent law  on  which  the  exercise  of  intellect  depends ; 
that  every  question  we  raise,  every  thought  we 
create,  leads  at  last  to  the  great  mystery  of  the  uni- 
verse, before  which  it  is  the  highest  office  of  reason 
to  bow  and  adore.  Under  such  a  system,  religion 
may  become  rational,  because  reason  itself  may  be- 


260  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

coine  religious.  No  attempts  are  needed  to  bridge 
the  chasm  between  what  we  know,  and  what  we 
feel.  Religious  ideas  have  their  root  in  reason,  and 
religious  feeling  in  the  nature  of  the  soul ;  and 
they  can  be  displaced  only  by  that  "  consistent  scep- 
ticism "  which  strikes  at  the  root  of  all  certainty 
and  all  knowledge. 

But,  it  may  be  urged  that  the  importance  of  cor- 
rect opinions  in  philosophy  may  be  necessary  where 
the  light  of  nature  is  our  only  guide,  but  that  the 
question  becomes  unimportant  when  revelation  is 
taken  into  the  account.  We  need  noi  speculate 
upon  religion ;  we  know  ;  truth  is  revealed  to  us. 
We  do  not  want  philosophy  ;  we  have  Christianity. 
This  of  course,  opens  the  question  as  to  the  relation 
between  philosophy  and  revealed  religion.  \%e 
might  reply,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  possibility  of 
any  religion  at  all  is  a  question  preliminary  to  the 
consideration  of  revelation.  And  this,  as  we  have 
shown,  is  a  problem  which  is  intimately  affected  by 
our  philosophical  views.  The  man  who,  on  philo- 
sophical grounds,  denies  that  religious  ideas  can 
form  a  portion  of  knowledge,  cannot  be  reached 
with  arguments  drawn  from  the  sublimity  of  the 
truths  which  revelation  exhibits,  nor  from  their  har- 
mony with  the  wants  of  his  nature.  He  admits  no 
such  principle  of  reasoning.  You  might  as  well  talk 
to  him  of  the  objects  of  a  sixth  sense.  His  intellect, 
encased  in  the  armor  of  sensualism,  is  impervious 
to  such  weapons.  He  can  only  be  convinced  of  the 
truths  of  revelation  by  the  historical  evidence  of 


PHILOSOPHY,  AND    THEOLOGY.  261 

its  founder ;  the  truth  of  his  miracles,  and  the  prob- 
ability that  his  doctrines  have  been  transmitted  to 
us  in  their  original  purity ;  a  mode  of  defending  the 
gospel  in  which,  when  addressed  to  such  minds,  we 
have  little  confidence.  Hume  has  shown  that,  in 
such  cases,  it  is  much  easier  to  attack  the  credibility 
of  miracles  than  to  yield  conclusions  drawn  from  a 
study  of  the  human  mind.  At  least  then,  so  far  as 
scepticism  is  concerned,  a  false  philosophy  must  be 
disarmed  with  its  own  weapons  before  the  claims  of 
Christianity  can  be  successfully  advanced.  But  we 
think  we  can  show  that,  besides  being  necessary  for 
the  defence  of  revelation,  philosophy  has  an  im- 
portant connection  with  our  views  of  revelation 
itself.  There  are  some  points,  of  course,  where  the 
teachings  of  revelation  are  ultimate.  We  cannot 
go  beyond  them.  The  great  truth,  for  instance,  of 
the  paternal  character  of  God,  is  an  idea  which  the 
unassisted  reason  could  never  have  attained.  No 
induction,  from  any  facts  within  our  knowledge, 
could  have  reached  it.  The  strong  light  of  revela- 
tion must  first  be  thrown  upon  nature,  before  natu- 
ral facts  can  be  seen  to  bear  the  impress  of  divine 
love.  Philosophy,  before  the  Saviour,  had  attained 
a  dim  and  unsteady  conception  of  the  goodness  of 
God.  Plato  exhausted  all  the  richness  of  his  fancy 
and  the  loftiness  of  his  diction  to  prove  that  God 
was  the  Supreme  Good.  But  between  this  concep- 
tion and  the  truth  that  God  is  the  universal  Fa- 
ther there-  is  all  the  difference  that  exists  between 
Plato  and  Jesus,  between  the  loftiest  philosophy  and 


262  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

the  purest  religion.  We  admit,  then,  that  in  reve- 
lation philosophy  has  been  helped  over  problems 
which,  by  its  own  strength,  it  could  not  solve  ;  but 
what  we  contend  for  is  the  conception  we  form  of 
the  meaning  of  the  truths  of  revelation,  depends  in 
a  great  measure  on  our  cultivation  of  mind,  or,  in 
other  words,  on  our  peculiar  philosophical  views. 
The  doctrines  of  Christianity  are  stated  in  words ; 
but  the  mere  reading  of  those  words  does  not  give 
a  man  clear  conceptions  of  the  depth  and  meaning 
of  the  truths  themselves,  any  more  than  the  mere 
reading  of  the  words  of  Newton's  Principia,  or  La- 
place's Mecanique  Celeste,  would  give  him  correct 
conceptions  of  the  magnitude  and  importance  of 
the  mathematical  propositions  demonstrated  there. 
Why  is  it  that  we  believe  that  Christianity,  as  a  re- 
ligion, can  never  be  superseded  ?  Because  we  be- 
lieve that  the  system  of  morality  it  teaches,  and  the 
worship  it  demands,  are  the  ideas  of  worship  and 
morality  for  all  ages.  To  whatever  degree  of  intel- 
lectual or  spiritual  advancement  we  may  attain,  we 
can  never  exhaust,  and  never  get  beyond,  the  sub- 
lime and  simple  truths  revealed  by  the  Saviour.  His 
religion  was  a  system  of  principles  capable  of  the 
widest  application,  and  of  indefinite  expansion.  It 
assists  the  growth  of  the  mind, — grows  with  it. 
At  the  very  time  that  it  furnishes  the  elements  of 
human  progress,  we  distinctly  see  that  with  all  the 
increased  capacities  resulting  from  progress,  we  can 
never  exhaust  the  materials  contained  in  -Christian- 
ity. A  thorough  conviction  of  this  truth  is  of  infi- 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  263 

nite  importance  in  strengthening  our  religious  con- 
victions, and  our  faith  in  revelation.  And  the  dis- 
covery of  this  very  truth  is  the  work  of  philosophy, 
It  is  not  a  doctrine  of  revelation  itself,  but  is  drawn 
from  an  acquaintance  with  the  laws  of  progress.  It 
is  the  humble  confession  of  reason  to  revelation, 
that  the  highest  office  of  philosophy  is  to  increase 
our  susceptibility  to  religion,  and  that  its  loftiest 
ambition  is  satisfied  with  bringing  the  light  of  its 
researches  to  bear  upon  the  interpretation  of  that 
truth,  of  which  the  Son  was  the  appointed  messen- 
ger. 

Our  philosophy  then  will  be,  to  a  great  extent, 
the  interpreter  of  Christianity.  It  will  translate  the 
words  of  revelation  in  harmony  with  the  conclu- 
sions which  we  may  form  of  the  human  mind,  its 
wants,  and  its  capacities.  Whether,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, we  derive  the  foundation  of  our  philosophi- 
cal views  from  Christianity,  or  from  reason,  still  the 
same  tendency  exists  in  the  mind  to  reconcile  the 
teachings  of  revelation  with  the  developments  of 
this  philosophical  creed.  Take  the  doctrine  of  sal- 
vation, for  instance.  Christianity,  one  would  think, 
is  explicit  upon  this  point.  And  yet,  about  no 
question  in  theology,  is  the  church  more  divided 
than  about  the  teaching  of  Scripture  in  relation 
to  it.  There  is  every  modification  of  opinion  as  to 
its  meaning,  extent,  and  mode.  And  every  one  of 
the  various  hues  and  shades  of  the  belief,  respect- 
ing it,  is  dependent  upon,  or  connected  with,  some 
system  of  philosophy,  of  which  this  view  forms  a 


264  PHILOSOPHY   AND     THEOLOGY. 

component  part.  Let  a  man,  through  the  preju- 
dices of  education,  derive  from  Scripture  the  notion 
of  original  sin,  with  its  satellites,  a  corrupted  na- 
ture, a  vicarious  atonement,  and  an  angry  God,  and 
he  cannot  adopt,  in  perfect  good  faith,  a  spiritual 
philosophy  in  its  full  extent.  He  cannot  believe  in 
the  freedom  of  the  will ;  he  cannot  conceive  the 
possibility  of  drawing  a  system  of  ethics  from  the 
study  of  a  sinful  consciousness  ;  he  cannot  consist- 
ently see,  in  a  depraved  nature,  the  germs  of  wor- 
ship and  faith  in  God.  On  the  other  hand,  no  man 
who,  from  the  study  of  the  will,  of  consciousness, 
and  of  the  original  instincts  of  human  nature,  has 
arrived  at  a  faith  in  freedom,  at  a  conception  of 
moral  obligation,  and  a  belief  that  religion  is  found- 
ed on  a  law  of  the  soul,  can  see  in  revelation  a  doc- 
trine which  sets  at  naught  all  the  conclusions  of  his 
intellect,  to  say  nothing' of  the  sensibilities  of  his 
heart.  Men  are  never  wilfully  illogical  or  inconsist- 
ent in  their  opinions;  and 'surely  no  man  in  his 
senses  would  attempt  to  reconcile  propositions  so 
fundamentally  incongruous.  Before  Pelagius  and 
Augustine  can  agree,  Pelagius  must  abandon  his 
philosophy,  or  Aiigustine  must  give  up  his  faith. 
But  this  fundamental  difference  as  to  the  nature  of 
salvation  affects  also  the  question  as  to  the  mode. 
And  here  again,  the  influence  of  philosophy  is  in- 
volved. The  corollary  of  the  first  view  we  have 
mentioned,  is,  that  salvation  is  instantaneous  and 
supernatural,  affected  upon  man,  not  in  him,  and  by 
himself;  a  work  in  which  he  is  an  instrument  not 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  265 

an  agent ;  in  which  he  is  passive,  not  active.  If 
salvation  is  thus  instantaneous  and  final,  where  is 
the  room  for  progress  ?  Where  is  that  intimate  har- 
mony between  virtue  and  religion  which  philosophy 
sees  intuitively,  and  which  Christianity  implies  on 
every  page  ?  If  the  essence  of  salvation  does  not 
consist  in  heing  formed  in  the  image  of  Jesus,  that 
is,  in  the  practice  of  the  loftiest  virtue,  where  is  the 
incentive  to  take  him  as  our  pattern  ?  and  what 
hope  may  we  indulge  of  ever  attaining  to  his  per- 
fection, if  we  must  view  him  as  the  Infinite  Father  ? 
The  philosophy  which  the  spirit  of  Christianity  in 
the  world  has  helped  to  form,  and  the  conclusions 
to  which  the  study  of  man,  as  he  has  been  affected 
by  Christianity,  has  led,  rise  in  rebellion  against 
such  a  construction  of  the  words  of  revelation. 
They  cannot  harmonize.  Between  them  there  is  a 
great  gulf  fixed. 

If  we  reflect,  too,  upon  our  conception  of  the  Deity 
himself,  we  shall  find  that  our  interpretation  of  the 
Scripture  teachings  as  to  his  character  and  attributes 
is  greatly  modified  by  the  tone  of  our  philosophy. 
Much  of  the  purity  of  thought  upon  the  other  essen- 
tial points  of  Christian  doctrine  depends  upon  our 
fundamental  conceptions  of  God  himself.  We  are 
taiight  in  the  New  Testament  that "  God  is  a  spirit ; " 
but  how  few  are  there  whose  views  of  the  nature  of 
the  Divine  Being  are  not  formed  after  the  idea  of 
the  Old  Testament,  whose  conceptions  attach  them- 
selves to  the  qualities  of  gross  power  and  material 
force ;  and  who  consequently  never  pass  through 


266  PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY. 

the  Jewish,  and  attain  a  Christian  idea  of  God.  One 
of  the  most  difficult  things  which  the  mind  has  to 
contend  against,  in  forming  a  definite  notion  of  the 
nature  of  the  Deity,  is  the  conflict  between  the 
senses  and  the  reason.  The  senses  always  tend  to 
anthropomorphism,  to  some  limitation-  of  form,  and 
some  precise  idea  of  place  ;  views  which  the  cultivated 
reason,  of  course,  rejects  with  abhorrence.  The 
root  of  this  difficulty  lies  in  the  constant  association 
of  the  philosophical  ideas  of  substance  and  being, 
with  matter  and  organization,  and  can  be  eradicated 
only  by  such  a  discipline  of  mind  as  will  enable  us 
to  entertain  these  ideas  wholly  separate  from  each 
other.  The  noble  conception  which  Plato  developed 
of  the  nature  of  God,  necessarily  sprang  from 
philosophical  habits  of  thought.  He  could  not  have 
held  an  anthropomorphic  notion  of  the  Supreme 
Good,  till  he  had  reconstructed  his  theory  of  virtue 
and  the  powers  of  the  soul.  They  were  inseparably 
intertwined.  On  the  other  hand,  the  phantom  gods 
of  Epicurus  differed  from  the  ardent  fire  which  the 
stoics  conceived  to  be  the  vesture  of  the  Deity,  pre- 
cisely because  the  whole  tone  of  the  philosophy  of  the 
former  was  gro veiling  and  mean,  and  of  the  latter 
lofty  and  ennobling.  Gassendi,  who,  although  a 
Catholic  priest,  was  a  very  strong  advocate  of  the 
doctrine  that  all  our  ideas  originate  exclusively  in 
sensible  impressions,  and  who  may  be  considered  the 
founder  of  that  school  in  modern  times,  maintained 
that  "  we  must  conceive  God  under  the  image  of  a 
venerable  old  man,"  —  that  being  the  noblest  form 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  267 

under  which  a  sensible  conception  could  be  enter- 
tained by  the  imagination.  And  are  there  not  now 
large  bodie^  of  Christians  whose  ideas  of  God  are 
drawn  from  the  imagery  of  Daniel  and  the  Apoca- 
lypse, —  the  great  white  throne,  and  garments  of 
snow,  and  the  chariot  of  fire,  rather  than  from  a  full 
realization  of  the  meaning  of  those  sublime  words 
of  the  Saviour,  "  God  is  a  spirit,  and  they  that  wor- 
ship him  must  worship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth"  ? 
Let  it  not  be  said  that  this  point  is  of  little  impor- 
tance. Connected  with  our  views  of  the  nature  of 
God  as  our  ideas  of  his  providence  and  omnipresence 
must  necessarily  be,  we  cannot  err  in  the  one  and 
be  sound  in  the  other.  And  here,  of  course,  the 
question  becomes  vitally  practical.  Faith  in  the 
Christian  doctrine  of  universal  providence  of  course 
demands  a  belief  in  the  intimate  and  abiding  pres- 
ence of  God  in  his  works.  He  must  be  viewed  as 
the  life  of  the  universe,  the  present  cause  of  all 
things,  the  all-pervading  essence  which  supports  and 
maintains  and  directs  the  phenomena  of  nature. 
"Without  this  constant  recognition  of  the  omnipres- 
ence of  God  in  its  strictest  sense,  nature  to  us  is  a 
machine  whose  movements  are  governed  by  a  pre- 
established  harmony,  not  a  manifestation  of  the 
constant  presence  and  prevading  activity  of  an  all- 
wise  agent.  God  is  separate  from  his  works,  provi- 
dence is  the  law  of  fate,  prayer  a  foreordained  and 
component  element  in  the  working  of  a  vast  spiritual 
mechanism. 

We  are  taught  in  Scripture  that  the  hairs  of  our 


268  PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY. 

heads  are  numbered,  and  that  not  a  sparrow  falls  to 
the  ground  without  the  notice  of  the  Almighty.  But 
the  theory  of  providence  we  see  revealcid  in  these 
words  must%form  a  component  part  of  our  rational 
views  of  the  nature  of  God,  and  of  his  relation  to 
the  moral  world.  It  is  in  the  light  of  these  concep- 
tions that  we  interpret  the  meaning  of  the  verbal 
relation  itself.  The  signification  of  the  terms  ex- 
pands with  the  breadth  and  extent  of  our  spiritual 
ideas.  Certainly,  when  science  has  unveiled  to  us 
its  exalted  view  of  God's  omnipresence,  and  rqvealed 
his  intimate  nearness  in  the  action  of  every  natural 
force,  the  Christian  view  of  providence  may  be 
accepted  in  its  most  literal  sense,  and  partakes  of  the 
precision  and  extent  and  certainty  of  our  scientific 
conceptions.  The  very  simplicity  of  the  gospel  is 
linked  with  the  discoveries  of  science  and  the  depth 
of  our  philosophical  ideas.  .  But  there  is  another 
point  where  our  independent  speculative  views  exer- 
cise an  important  influence  on  the  interpretation  of 
revealed  religion  ;  I  mean  in  the  connection  we 
establish  between  the  finite  and  the  infinite,  between 
God  and  his  works.  The  immense  diversity  of 
opinion  that  has  been  entertained  by  Christians  upon 
this  question  proves  that  revelation  lacks  sufficient 
precision  to  preclude  the  necessity  of  personal  reflec- 
tion. And  here  the  danger  to  be  apprehended  does 
not  consist  solely  nor  chiefly  in  the  adoption  of  a 
narrow  and  gross  system  of  philosophy,  as  in  many 
of  the  cases  we  have  named,  but  in  most  cases 
springs  from  an  opposite  tendency,  from  spiritualism 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  269 

itself  become  ultra  and  exclusive.  Men,  starting 
from  a  conception  of  the  infinity,  omnipresence,  and 
spirituality  of  the  Deity,  have  seen  only  him  in  the 
universe  ;  fixing  their  view  exclusively  on  the  eter- 
nal substance,  they  have  looked  upon  man  merely 
as  an  accident,  or  mode  of  that  substance  ;  accus- 
tomed to  direct  their  thoughts  to  the  efficacy  of  the 
Infinite  Agency  alone,  they  have  seen  in  man  no 
central  and  self-determining  power,  110  inherent  and 
personal  force.  A  spirit  completely  saturated  with 
such  a  view  may  be  religious,  but  its  religion  is  dis- 
eased. Religion,  to  be  healthy  and  strong,  must  in- 
clude a  view  of  human  liberty,  as  well  as  of  Divine 
power ;  it  must  see  that  we  have  nobler  relations 
to  the  Deity  than  that  of  absolute  dependence. 
The  piety  which  Christian  Pantheism  inspires  in 
man  is  a  dreamy  quiescence,  a  losing  of  self  in  con- 
templation of  the  Infinite.  All  the  powers  of  the 
soul  are  absorbed  in  meditation  upon  the  awful  ideas 
in  which  the  Deity  is  revealed  to  us,  till  an  unnatural 
humility  ends  by  sacrificing  the  noblest  elements  of 
human  nature  upon  the  altar  of  faith.  The  funda- 
mental vice  of  this  view  of  the  relation  of  the  Creator 
and  his  creature  may  be,  and  has  been,  manifested 
in  a  variety  of  forms,  and  has  tainted  almost  every 
doctrine  of  Christianity. 

Revelation  warns  us  of  the  influence  of  jsense  and 
passion ;  and  mysticism,  seizing  upon  this  point  of 
duty  exclusively,  has  driven  men  to  cloisters  and 
solitudes,  that  they  might  yield  themselves  to  the 
luxury  of  unobstructed  meditation.  We  are  com- 


270  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

manded  to  recognize  the  claims  of  duty  before  those 
of  society  and  kindred  ;  and  a  rigid  asceticism,  trans- 
lating this  command  into  the  language  of  its  favorite 
views,  has  condemned  the  exercise  of  every  social 
feeling  as  sinful,  and  placed  the  perfection  of  virtue 
in  the  infliction  of  exquisite  self-torture. 

Christianity  is  replete  with  expressions  of  the 
grandeur  and  holiness  of  the  Deity ;  and  Calvinism, 
from  an  exclusive  view  of  the  divine  majesty,  has 
placed  a  false  estimate  upon  human  agency,  and 
resolved  all  morality  into  considerations  for  the  glory 
of  God.  It  was  with  a  view  to  these  instances  of 
the  corruptions  of  Christianity,  that -Channing  pro- 
foundly remarked,  "  It  is  a  fact  worthy  of  serious 
thought,  and  full  of  solemn  instruction,  that  many 
of  the  worst  errors  have  grown  out  of  the  religious 
tendencies  of  the  mind.  So  necessary  is  it  to  keep 
watch  over  our  whole  nature,  to  subject  the  highest 
sentiments  to  the  calm  conscientious  reason."  Al- 
though the  spirit  of  quietism  of  which  we  have 
spoken  is  foreign  to  the  tone  of  modern  civilization, 
still,  under  its  practical  influence,  we  may  trace  the 
working  of  the  same  views  with  a  different  form.  A 
false  transcendentalism  has  seduced  some  of  the 
noblest  minds  in  our  very  midst.  We  open  their 
works,  and  read  of  the  ideal  in  religion,  of  the 
manifestation  of  God  in  the  instincts  of  the  soul, 
and  of  uniting  our  life  with  the  universe  in  the  per- 
ception of  eternal  beauty.  Such  theories  are  pretty  ; 
that,  however,  is  not  our  objection  to  them ;  they  are 
enervating.  There  is  nothing  in  them  to  stimulate 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  271 

that  substantial  virtue  which  is  the  morality  of ' 
Christianity.  We  do  not  object  to  art ;  we  object  to 
the  theory  of  the  identity  of  art  and  religion  ;  to 
that  philosophy  which  would  substitute  poetic  reverie 
for  the  practical  duties  which  Christianity  enjoins  as 
the  exhibition  and  proof  of  sound  religious  life.  The 
existence  of  Christ  in  human  form,  by  giving  us 
at  once  a  definite  conception  of  the  perfection  of 
humanity,  and  a  full  revelation  of  the  nature  and 
will  of  God,  is  a  perpetual  rebuke  to  that  dissipation 
of  the  human  faculties  and  that  sickly  hue  of 
thought  which  is  the  inevitable  result  of  every  mod- 
ification of  Pantheism. 

The  most  remarkable  instance,  however,  of  the 
effect  of  philosophical  systems  in  modifying  the  doc- 
trines of  revelation,  may  be  detected  in  the  struc- 
ture of  the  theology  of  the  Catholic  Church.  It  is 
developed  there  on  a  colossal  seals.  In  the  Middle 
Ages  two  great  and  rival  schools  contended  for  the 
empire  of  the  intellectual  world  —  Realism  and  Nom- 
inalism. The  seal  of  authority  was  given  to  the 
former.  The  realists  contended  that  all  knowledge 
was  deducible  from  abstract  ideas  of  the  mind  ;  the 
testimony  of  experience  was  distrusted  as  unworthy 
the  confidence  of  a  philosopher,  and  reality  was  at- 
tributed only  to  the  general  notions  of  the  intellect. 
Their  system  was  a  compound  of  Platonism  and 
Aristotelianism,  of  Platonic  ideas  under  an  Aristo- 
telian form.  Its  great  maxim  was,  "  Invisibilia  non 
decipiunt ; "  things  invisible  never  deceive.  Nomi- 
nalism, on  the  contrary,  denied  the  validity  of  gen- 


272  PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY. 

eral  notions  unless  verified  by  the  testimony  of  ex- 
perience ;  and  thus  in  a  dark  age  was  the  prophet 
of  the  modern  scientific  method.  It  is  curious  to 
observe  the  facility  with  which  a  false  philosophy 
lent  itself  to  the  service  of  the  Catholic  faith.  All 
the  theories  of  the  Church  were  cast  in  the  mould 
of  the  dominant  philosophical  system.  The  doc- 
trines of  the  eucharist  and  the  Trinity,  of  predesti- 
nation and  grace,  bristled  with  philosophic  formu- 
lae. As  early  as  the  ninth  century,  the  testimony 
of  the  senses  was  officially  impeached  to  obviate  ob- 
jections to  the  doctrine  of  the  real  presence.  Here- 
sies were  met  with  more  subtile  distinctions,  and  a 
finer  analysis  of  the  subject  and  predicate  of  Scrip- 
ture propositions.  It  was  as  if  a  solemn  incantation 
had  shrouded  nature  and  revelation  in  an  obscurity 
which  Aristotle's  system  alone  had  power  to  dispel. 
The  schoolmen  saw  everywhere,  and  in  everything, 
but  the  outward  symbol  of  an  Aristotelian  truth. 
The  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  was  a  scientific  view  of 
the  principle  of  causation.  The  dignity  of  Aristotle 
was  blended  with  that  of  Jesus  in  the  papal  chair. 
The  Son  was  the  principle  of  intelligence,  and  was 
generated  from  the  Father,  as  thought  is  generated 
from  mind.  The  Spirit  is  the  love  of  God  to  his 
creation,  and  proceeded  merely  -from  the  Father. 
The  terms  diversity,  difference,  separation,  distinc- 
tion, disparity,  division,  applied  to  God,  became 
heresy,  as  they  were  inconsistent  with  the  great 
Stagirite's  view  of  substance,  according  to  which 
God  must  exist  as  a  Unity  of  essence  under  a  Triu- 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  273 

ity  of  forms.  The  prevalent  theories  of  justification, 
of  original  sin,  and  of  free-agency,  were  all  explained 
by  the  physical  and  moral  speculations  of  Aristotle 
upon  creation,  and  the  relation  of  the  Deity  to  his 
works.  But  the  points  in  which  the  Church  re- 
ceived the  most  efficient  aid  from  philosophy,  may 
be  found  in  the  defence  of  the  Catholic  view  of  the 
Sacrament  and  Transubstantiation.  The  problem 
was  to  satisfy  reason,  and  reconcile  the  theory  with 
common  sense.  According  to  the  physical  theory 
of  the  schoolmen,  nature  was  conceived  to  be  a  vast 
system  of  powers  secretly  directed  by  the  sovereign 
will.  All  the  forms  of  existence  could  be  analyzed 
into  substance  and  accidents ;  substance  being  the 
last  point  to  which  analysis  can  attain,  the  secret 
ground  and  support  of  all  appearances,  and  acci- 
dents including  everything  which  does  not  enter 
into  a  rational  conception  of  the  being  or  nature  of 
the  thing  denned.  Of  course,  in  accordance  with 
the  fundamental  doctrine  of  Realism,  substance  and 
accident  being  clear  and  distinct  ideas  of  the  mind, 
must  have  distinct  and  separate  existence  in  nature, 
and  therefore  may  not  always  be  conjoined  in  the 
actual  world.  Now,  hi  the  mystical  consecration 
of  the  elements  in  the  eucharist,  the  form  of  the 
sacrament,  that  is,  the  official  ceremony  conducted 
by  the  priest,  partaking  of  the  creative  energy  of  the 
Divine  word,  changes  the  distinctive  substance  of 
the  elements,  and  infuses  the  Divine  substance  of 
Christ  himself.  The  accidents,  such  as  the  form, 
the  taste,  the  color,  and  dimensions  of  the  elements, 

18 


274  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  . 

still  remain,  not  existing  in  Christ  as  their  substance, 
but  as  simple  phenomena  divorced  from  all  ground 
of  support.  The  vicious  character  or  forgetfulness 
of  the  priest,  at  the  moment  of  consecration,  could 
not  affect  the  efficacy  of  the  form,  as  the  priest  repre- 
sented no  individual  authority,  his  personality  being 
resolved  into  the  abstract  individuality  of  the  Church ; 
and  it  was  the  general  intention  of  the  Church  that 
was  manifested  in  the  sacramental  ceremony.  Real- 
ism here  became  an  effectual  means  of  power.  "  It 
was  an  admirable  expedient  of  ecclesiastical  policy 
thus  to  rest  the  power  of  the  church  on  the  purity 
and  indefectibility  of  an  abstraction.  Religious 
imagination  was  sustained  on  the  picture  of  the 
church  as  the  great  mother  of  the  faithful,  cher- 
ishing her  beloved  children  in  her  pure  bosom  ; 
whilst  her  many-handed  agents  in  the  world  were 
securing  their  hold  on  the  consciences  of  men  by 
that  prerogative  of  veneration  which  they  enjoyed 
in  her  person." 1  This  connection  between  the  logi- 
cal philosophy  of  the  schoolmen  and  the  Catholic 
religion  were  not  accidental.  It  is  upon  the  princi- 
ples of  that  philosophy  alone  that  the  theology  of 
Rome  can  be  defended  now.  Luther,  who  was, 
according  to  Melancthon,  a  strenuous  partisan  of  the 
sect  of  Nominalists,  declared  that  a  reform  of  the 
church  would  be  impossible  until  the  whole  scho- 
lastic philosophy,  theology,  and  logic  should  be  erad- 
icated. The  study  of  physics  cured  Bayle  of 
Catholicism ;  and  Gibbon  has  left  a  record  of  the 

1  Hampden's  Bampton  Lectures,  p.  824. 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  275 

raptures  he  experienced  when  the  important  and 
recondite  truth  flashed  upon  his  mind  that  the 
doctrine  of  the  real  presence  is  attested  only  by 
the  sense  of  sight,  which  receives  the  impressions 
of  Scripture  texts,  while  it  is  disproved  by  three 
senses,  —  the  sight,  the  touch,  and  the  taste.  Ca- 
tholicism has  always  opposed  philosophical  innova- 
tion. When  Descartes,  with  his  principle  of  uni- 
versal doubt,  and  his  distinction  of  substances  into 
material  and  thinking,  broke  the  spell  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  an  angry  controversy  was  at  once  excited 
upon  the  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation,  which 
drove  the  partisans  of  the  new  system  to  the  most 
subtile  artifices  in  order  to  maintain  the  show  of 
cougruity  between  their  views  and  the  dominant 
theology.  The  revival  of  an  ideal  philosophy  in 
France  in  modern  times,  occasioned  an  outbreak  of 
Jesuitical  bigotry,  owing  to  fear  for  the  doctrines  of 
the  church ;  and,  in  our  own  country,  we  have 
lately  seen  a  distinguished  theorist,  remarkable  for 
severity  of  his  logic  and  the  consistency,  for  the 
time  being,  of  his  opinions,  after  having  been  led, 
by  a  metaphysical  formula,  into  the  bosom  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  turn  and  decry  the  whole  ten- 
dency of  modern  thought  and  cultivation,  and  speak 
in  the  most  exalted  terms  of  the  wisdom  and  depth 
of  the  philosophy  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

In  the  history  of  modern  philosophy,  too,  the  re- 
action of  the  opinions  of  every  school  upon  theology, 
admonishes  us  of  the  inseparable  connection  be- 
tween these  separate  pursuits.  The  peculiar  views 


27G  PHILOSOPHY    AND    THEOLOGY. 

of  Kant,  as  to  the  powers  of  the  mind  and  the  laws 
of  science,  necessarily  led  to  a  peculiar  theory  of 
revelation.  He  aspired  to  show,  d  priori,  what, 
from  the  nature  of  the  human  mind,  revelation 
must  contain,  and  the  evidence  it  must  adduce  in 
support  of  its  authority.  Soon,  the  influence  of 
his  system  called  forth  theologians  like  Paulus,  and 
Rohr,  and  Krug,  and  Wegscheider,  and  a  host  of 
others,  who  swell  the  ranks  of  German  rationalism. 
The  dreamy  and  poetic  spirit  of  Schelling's  philoso- 
phy of  nature,  added  to  the  Catholic  influence  some 
of  the  most  celebrated  names  which  German  litera- 
ture in  the  nineteenth  century  can  boast.  Hege- 
lianism  embodied  its  religious  results  in  Strauss's 
life  of  Jesus,  and  the  theological  opinions  and  spirit 
of  Schleiermacher  and  De  Wette  were  allied  with  a 
criticism  of  the  human  faculties  and  a  theory  of 
knowledge,  which  found  a  scientific  form  in  the 
philosophy  of  Fries.  And.  in  our  midst  it  is  easy 
to  trace  the  influence  which  the  general  philosoph- 
ical spirit,  the  belief  in  the  absolute  agency  of  man, 
and  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  among  the  Uni- 
tarians, has  had  in  moulding  the  form  of  their  the- 
ology, and  in  determining  their  views  of  revelation. 
A  full  discussion  of  the  points  of  difference  between 
them  and  their  opponents  involves  at  the  outset  the 
justness  of  their  conception  of  human  power. 

Among  us,  it  is  evident  that  the  topic  of  which 
we  have  been  treating  is  a  new  one.  Obliged  as 
our  denomination  has  been  to  maintain  an  antago- 
nistic position,  in  order  to  support  its  existence,  it  is 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  277 

no  wonder  that  it  has  not  meddled  with  questions 
which  demand  more  leisure,  a  higher  cultivation, 
and  different  habits  of  thought.  Perhaps,  too,  it  is 
to  this  polemic  tendency  that  we  must  ascribe  a  cer- 
tain distrust  of  such  pursuits  as  visionary  and  un- 
certain, too  often  built  on  abstractions  that  are  the 
dreams  of  a  distempered  imagination,  or  the  crea- 
tions of  a  disordered  brain.  Many  of  our  reasoners, 
so  long  accustomed  to  decide  all  questions  by  an  ap- 
peal to  Scripture,  seem  to  have  become  unfitted  for 
the  discussion  of  questions  where  the  subject  is  the 
human  mind,  and  the  requisites  a  delicate  analysis 
and  subtile  discrimination.  They  want  the  positive- 
ness  of  authority,  and  suspect  the  soundness  of  con- 
clusions drawn  by  unassisted  reason.  They  are 
fearful,  moreover,  that  the  simplicity  of  the  gospel 
may  be  corrupted  ;  forgetting  that  mysticism  may 
revel  in  fanciful  constructions  of  the  sacred  writings, 
and  sophistry  lurk  under  a  rigid  collation  of  Scrip- 
ture texts.  But,  be  this  as  it  may,  the  wants  of  a 
higher  cultivation  are  beginning  to  be  seriously  felt 
among  us,  and,  as  a  help  to  attain  this  cultivation, 
a  philosophical  training  is  not  only  desirable,  but 
necessary.  The  laws  of  the  human  mind  are  not 
suspended  nor  reversed  in  behalf  of  religious  sci- 
ence. It  requires  training  and  discipline  and  severe 
reflection,  to  reach  the  highest  walks  in  theology,  as 
much  as  it  requires  them  to  reach  the  highest  walks 
in  any  intellectual  pursuit.  There  are  questions  at 
this  moment  pressing  upon  the  attention  of  the 
American  theologian,  to  which  he  must  bring  a  mind 


278  PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY. 

versed  in  history  and  science,  and  trained  to  habits 
of  patient  and  untiring  thought.  Disputes  as  to 
the  authenticity  of  the  Scriptures,  the^  reality  of 
miracles,  and  the  nature  of  inspiration,  however 
we  may  regret  that  they  have  been  raised,  cannot 
be  settled  by  the  dogmatism  of  common  sense,  or 
charmed  away  by  the  contempt  of  indifference. 
Neither,  of  course,  can  they  be  laid  by  appeals 
to  Scripture.  Philosophy,  by  examining  into  the 
grounds  upon  which  faith  is  built,  has  raised  them ; 
and  it  is  to  enlightened  philosophy  alone  that  we 
must  look  for  those  principles  of  historical  criticism 
which  can  conduct  to  a  satisfactory  solution. 

This  relation  of  religion  to  philosophy,  let  it  here 
be  observed,  is  not  peculiar.  A  man  who  is  not 
penetrated  with  a  philosophic  spirit  cannot  attain 
to  eminence  in  any  intellectual  pursuit.  All  the 
provinces  of  thought  are  under  the  dominion  of 
philosophy.  It  is  the  air  from  which  they  draw  the 
sustenance  of  a  lofty  or  a  stunted  growth.  The 
study  of  history  has  been  revolutionized  by  modern 
philosophy ;  its  aim  has  been  changed,  its  sphere 
enlarged.  Underneath  minute  events  it  looks  for 
the  spirit  of  the  people,  the  manners  and  life  which 
determine  national  character,  and  searches  for  facts 
in  order  to  attain  the  ideas  by  which  they  may  be 
interpreted.  Beyond  history  now  lies  the  philoso- 
phy of  history,  which  is  the  creation  of  the  modern 
intellect,  and  the  noblest  product  of  modern  culti- 
vation. Science,  too,  lias  received  its  laws  from 
philosophy  ;  and,  like  a  dutiful  child,  returns  to  its 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  279 

parent  the  fruit  of  its  researches,  to  be  used  as  the 
material  of  still  wider  progress.  Literature  and  art 
spring  from  the  inne'r  life  of  the  times,  and  always 
exhibit,  in  a  form  a  little  obscure,  the  tone  and  di- 
rection of  thought  and  cultivation.  Philosophy, 
then,  is  indispensable  to  critical  syid  exact  scholar- 
ship, and  is  at  once  the  basis  and  summit  of  a  thor- 
ough education. 

Before  closing  this  article,  however,  we  wish  to 
say  a  few  words  upon  the  objections  which  have 
been  brought  against  modern  philosophy.  With 
some,  the  terms  in  which  it  deals  afford  an  insuper- 
able obstacle.  They  are  so  uncouth,  nonsensical, 
and  absurd,  as  to  provoke  laughter  and  disgust. 
But  distinct  and  different  ideas  require  peculiar 
forms  of  expression,  and,  in  fact,  one  of  the  great 
obstacles  which  has  obstructed  the  progress  of  the 
science  of  the  human  mind,  has  been  the  employ- 
ment of  terms  borrowed  from  material  operations, 
and  suggesting  material  analogies.  "We  do  not  ad- 
mire the  euphony,  nor  defend,  in  all  cases,  the  pro- 
priety, of  the  philosophical  nomenclature ;  but  we 
cannot  see  the  justice  of  condemning  a  pursuit  for 
the  precision  of  its  terminology,  any  more  than  of 
condemning  a  mechanic-  for  the  sharpness  of  hi? 
tools.  When  such  criticisms  shall  be  applied  to^, 
botany  or  chemistry  or  physiology,  they  will  at 
least  acquire  the  merit  of  consistency.  Again  ;  the 
variety  of  philosophical  opinions  and  schools,  has 
been  considered  a  weighty  objection  to  the  useful- 
ness and  value  of  the  pursuit  itself.  But  religion 


280  PHILOSOPHY  AND  THEOLOGY. 

exhibits  the  same  variety  of  opinion,  and  the  same 
diversity  of  sects.  In  fact,  the  apparent  multiplicity 
of  philosophical  schools  is  delusive,  and  does  not 
really  exist.  The  great  central  ideas  which  are  the 
nucleus  around  which  philosophical  systems  are 
formed,  will  be  found  to  be  very  few  and  simple. 
They  may,  without  any  violence  to  facts,  be  reduced 
to  four ;  and  we  think  a  rigid  analysis  might  resolve 
these  into  two :  Sensualism  and  Idealism.  The 
most  comprehensive  and  minute  survey  of  the  his- 
tory ol  philosophy  cannot  find,  we  will  venture  to 
say,  another  idea  as  the  basis  of  an  additional  clas- 
sification ;  and  certainly  this  is  as  near  an  approach 
to  unity  as  theology  can  boast.  But  this  objection, 
like  the  last,  proceeds,  in  too  many  instances,  from 
a  weakness  of  mind  or  a  narrowness  of  spirit  that 
pretends  to  decide  upon  what  it  does  not  know,  and 
cannot  comprehend,  and  only  proves  the  necessity 
of  the  very  cultivation  it  decries.  Some,  however, 
object  to  speculative  philosophy,  that  it  is  visionary 
and  unscientific,  its  method  too  rash,  and  its  results 
not  valid.  To  a  certain  extent  this  objection  may 
be  well  founded,  and  it  leads  us  naturally  to  con- 
sider some  of  the  faults  of  modern  speculation. 
The  great  errors  of  modern  philosophy  have  been 
a  hasty  generalization,  and  too  great  confidence  in 
the  power  of  the  human  intellect.  The  limits  of 
knowledge  have  not  been  clearly  defined.  Philoso- 
phers have  forgotten  the  rules  of  philosophy,  and 
have  endeavored  to  pluck  from  the  universe  the 
"  heart  of  its  mystery."  Speculation  has  attempted 


PHILOSOPHY  AND    THEOLOGY.  281 

to  reach,  without  patient  toil,  results  which  patient 
induction  alone  could  promise ;  it  has  desired  to 
wear,  without  winning,  the*crown  of  science.  Such 
attempts,  of  course,  must  fail.  When  men  attempt 
to  express  in  one  formula  the  secret  laws  of  the 
universe,  and  the  reason  of  all  things,  they  may  ex- 
pect to  see  their  splendid  generalizations  turn  to 
"  splendid  follies."  Every  endeavor  to  penetrate 
beyond  the  power  of  the  mind  to  know,  has  over- 
thrown the  system  it  was  intended  to  adorn,  and 
men  are  beginning  to  see  that  the  perfection  of  reason 
consists  in  the  recognition  of  mystery  that  underlies 
the  whole.  This  tendency  of  modern  philosophy 
may  be  easily  explained ;  it  is  a  reaction  against  the 
laws  by  which,  in  the  eighteenth  century,  it  was  con- 
fined. Reason,  set  free  from  its  narrow  limits, 
would  tolerate  nothing  but  itself,  and  consequently 
has  overlooked  the  importance  of  the  affections  and 
feelings,  and  aimed  too  much  after  a  colder,  lifeless, 
and  purely  rational  view  of  nature.  These  are 
faults  of  philosophers,  not  of  philosophy ;  and  the 
remedy  must  be  sought  in  a  rigid  adherence  to  true 
philosophic  method.  All  the  great  discoveries  in 
mental  science,  like  the  discoveries  in  the  material 
sciences,  have  resulted  from  a  patient  and  exhaust- 
ive analysis  of  the  facts  of  consciousness  and  his- 
tory, in  order  to  attain  a  thorough  classification,  and 
to  construct  a  legitimate  and  valid  theory.  The 
method  of  the  student  of  philosophical  history  is  not 
different  from  that  of  the  astronomer ;  the  same 


282  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEO'LOGY. 

speculative  laws  which  the  botanist  observes  are 
equally  applicable  to  the  pursuits  of  the  philologist. 
Finally  the  great  argument,  with  some,  against 
philosophical  pursuits,  is  that  of  irreligious  tendency. 
That  some  philosophers  have  been  sceptics  cannot 
be  denied.  But  Laplace  was  a  sceptic ;  and  is 
astronomy  injurious  ?  Shellpy  was  an  atheist ;  do 
we  estimate  the  moral  tendency  of  poetry  by  his 
belief?  Paine  was  an  infidel;  but  are  the  principles 
of  common  sense  to  be  distrusted,  because  he  pro- 
fessed to  be  governed  by  them  ?  Moreover,  a  thor- 
ough theologian  would  desire  to  understand  the 
nature  of  the  attacks  against  his  system ;  and  if 
they  come  in  a  philosophical  form,  how  shall  he  re- 
fute them  ?  Must  he  abandon  the  ground  to  athe- 
ists, and  thus  tacitly  admit  that  the  advancing  cul- 
tivation of  the  age  has  outrun  theology  ?  Old  Je- 
rome applied  himself  to  study,  in  order  to  improve 
the  tone  of  sacred  literature,  and  that  Christians 
might  be  able  to  reply  to  heathens,  who  despised 
them  as  infants  in  learning  and  ineloquent  in  style. 
And  Tholuck,  recently,  after  avowing  his  belief  that 
theology  and  speculative  philosophy  cannot  be  sepa- 
rated, declared,  with  reference  to  the  present  ten- 
dency of  philosophy  in  Germany,  that  he  should 
not  feel  that  he  was  discharging  his  duty  as  an  aca- 
demical teacher,  did  he  not  struggle  to  become 
master  of  a  system  which  is  striking  its  roots  so 
deep  into  the  spirit  of  the  age.  Those  are  the  most 
dangerous  sceptic's,  who  are  continually  fearing  the 
effect  of  intellectual  progress  upon  religion.  What 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  283 

would  have  been  the  influence  if,  a  few  years  since, 
geology  had  been  abandoned  'to  the  opponents  of 
religion,  and  the  whole  array  of  theological  force  and 
skill,  clinging  to  a  rigidly  literal  interpretation  of 
Scripture,  had  set  against  it  ?  Would  the  progress 
of  science  have  been  impeded  ?  Or  rather,  would  not 
religion  have  lost  a  most  useful  ally  and  defender  ? 
But  it  is  for  others  to  make  this  plea  of  irreligious  ten- 
dency against  philosophy.  If  we  will  not  give  it  our 
countenance,  still  let  us  not  be  plaintiffs.  Modern 
philosophy  and  modern  cultivation,  in  every  depart- 
ment, are  leagued  with  liberal  Christianity.  This 
is  a  sign  of  hope.  The  dogmas  of  a  narrow  theol- 
ogy cannot  breathe  the  air  of  philosophy  or  science ; 
it  is*  too  pure.  Who  can  rise  from  a  study  of  the 
exquisitely  perfect  and  simple  mechanism  which 
every  branch  of  science  unfolds,  in  every  corner  of 
the  universe,  and  assent  to  the  theological  doctrine 
of  the  Trinity  ?  The  ethical  system  of  Stewart  or 
Jouffroy  is  not  the  ethical  system  which  flows  from 
the  doctrines  of  total  depravity  and  predestination  ; 
neither  can  the  works  of  Combe  find  fellowship  in 
the  theory  of  vicarious  sacrifice  and  atonement. 
All  those  arts  which  spring  from  the  finer  feel- 
ings of  the  soul  condemn  them.  What  music 
would  satisfy  the  genius  of  Calvinism  ?  what  would 
be  its  ideal  of  art,  but  the  "  writhing  agonies  of 
Laocoon  ?  "  Shall  we,  then,  be  behind  the  parti- 
sans of  these  very  systems  in  cultivating  the  sources 
of  sound  literature  ?  Orthodox  theologians  are 
daily  making  themselves  familiar  with  German  Bib- 


284  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

lical  critics  and  German  literature,  and,  conse- 
quently, with  German  philosophy.  If  the  experi- 
ment will  level  their  theology  to  the  level  of  Ger- 
man orthodoxy,  the  friends  of  religion  will  have 
cause  to  rejoice.  Everything  in  the  tendencies  of 
the  age  is  favorable  to  the  progress  of  liberal  Chris- 
tianity. Moral  and  intellectual  philosophy,  science, 
literature,  and  art,  are  in  harmony  with  it  and  are 
moved  by  its  spirit.  The  implements  are  prepared, 
if  theologians  will  use  them.  We  have  nothing,  of 
course,  to  fear  from  atheism,  and,  least  of  all,  from 
the  progress  of  knowledge.  The  great  question 
which,  from  recent  developments,  bids  fair  to  agi- 
tate the  higher  circle  of  theologians,  is  a  question 
between  rationalism  and  supernaturalism.  In'  the 
discussion  of  this  point,  a  thorough  examination  of 
the  grounds  of  religion  will  of  course  be  involved. 
The  spiritual  and  elevated  character  of  modern 
speculation  is  a  pledge  for  a  satisfactory  solution. 
Any  apparent  hostility  between  religion  and  philos- 
ophy will  be  reconciled  by  a  simple  decision.  Phi- 
losophy does  not  want  supernaturalism  as  the  start- 
ing-point ;  religion  does  not  want  rationalism  as  a 
goal.  Both  will  be  satisfied  with  supernaturalism 
grounded  in  rationalism,  with  Christian  faith  as  the 
crown  of  human  reason. 


XIII. 
NATURAL  AND   REVEALED  RELIGION, 


THE  object  proposed  in  the  present  article  is  this : 
to  point  out  the  relations  and  the  reciprocal  in- 
fluence between  natural  and  revealed  religious 
truth ;  between  those  ideas  of  God,  the  spiritual  re- 
lations of  men,  and  human  destiny,  which  inquiry, 
research,  and  reflection  have  attained,  and  those 
ideas  which  are  unfolded  with  authoritative  clear- 
ness in  the  Bible.  It  does  not  come  within  the 
scope  of  our  plan  to  refer  at  all  to  the  preliminary 
question,  so  widely  agitated  in  our  tune,  whether 
the  Bible  itself  contains  a  revelation,  in  our  com- 
mon understanding  of  that  term,  or  whether  its 
truths  are  merely  the  highest  discoveries  as  yet 
attained  by  the  religious  nature  in  its  natural  and 
ordinary  development.  Standing  on  the  commonly 
recognized  Christian  ground,  without  reference  to 
that  point,  we  wish  to  trace  the  connection  between 
the  religious  truths  of  the  Bible,  as  they  are  clearly 
unfolded,  whether  supernaturally  revealed  or  not, 
and  the  development  of  philosophical  and  scientific 
researches  in  the  same  field. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  we  must  remark  that  the 
distinction  between  the  two  provinces  of  natural 

285 


286     NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

and  revealed  religion  is  founded,  not  in  a  differ- 
ence between  things,  but  in  the  relation  which  cer- 
tain truths  bear  to  the  laws  and  limits  of  human 
knowledge.  By  the  terms  "  natural "  and  "  re- 
vealed," we  do  not  distinguish  different  kinds  of 
religion,  separate  fields  of  investigation  essentially 
distinct;  we  do  not  intend  an  intellectual-^partition 
such  as,  in  the  realm  of  science,  is  conveyed  by 
the  terms  astronomy  and  geology,  chemistry  and 
mathematics.  Evidently,  there  can  be  but  one 
religion,  one  absolute  system  of  spiritual  truth,  as 
there  can  be  but  one  science  of  geometry,  or  one 
theory  of  light  and  of  mechanic  forces.  And  this 
absolute  religion  remains  true,  independent  of  hu- 
man thought  and  culture,  entirely  unaffected  by 
the  faith  or  the  ignorance  01  men.  The  difference 
marked  and  conveyed  in  common  speech  by  the 
terms  we  have  used,  is  a  difference  of  relations 
solely ;  it  implies,  not  a  generic  separation,  but  re- 
fers to  a  diversity  in  the  methods  of  attainment,  and 
the  character  of  the  evidence  adduced.  To  the  do- 
main of  natural  religion  belong  all  the  features  of 
this  universal  truth  which  human  reason  in  its 
highest  elevation  can  attain.  It  includes  all  those 
discoveries  which,  in  accordance  with  the  natural 
adaptation  between  our  finite  intellect  and  the  laws 
of  mental  light,  flow  in  upon  us  from  the  infinite 
depths  of  being  ;  while,  revealed  religion,  supply- 
ing a  higher  instrument,  and  collecting  and  concen- 
trating the  rays  into  a  powerful  focus,  intensifies  — 
to  use  that  word  —  our  natural  knowledge,  at  the 


NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION.     287 

same  time  that  it  extends  the  range  of  our  acquaint- 
ance with  the  universe,  and  brings  within  the  circle 
of  our  vision  vast  relations,  which  must  forever  have 
been  denied  to  the  most  ardent  researches  of  the 
unaided  eye.  The  distinction  in  the  terms  reposes, 
then,  not  on  objective  peculiarities  in  truths,  but  on 
subjective  powers  of  discovery. 

Reasoning  d  priori,  we  cannot  discover  that,  in- 
dependent of  the  pleasure  of  the  Deity,  there  need 
be,  to  us,  any  natural  connection  between  the  evi- 
dences for  these  two  divisions.  The  infinite  cannot 
exhaust  itself  by  any  revelations,  and  there  would 
seem  to  be  no  necessary  relationship  between  the 
actual  manifestations  of  the  Deity  in  the  mechanical 
arrrangements  of  nature  and  the  powers  of  the 
mind,  and  any  further  communications  which  he 
might  choose  to  make  directly  through  an  accred- 
ited agent,  and  by  super-ordinary  means.  It  was 
within  tlie  option  of  the  Deity  to  rest  revelation  on 
independent  evidence  entirely  overwhelming ;  to 
introduce- it  into  the  world  like  light  borne  suddenly 
into  the  midst  of  total  darkness  ;  to  strengthen  it 
with  evidence  that  should  command  the  belief  of 
all  times,  not  at  all  by  the  harmony  of  its  truths 
with  known  or  observed  or  supposed  principles  of 
divine  agency  and  action,  but  by  the  crushing  exhi- 
bitions of  supernatural  interference  which  establish, 
beyond  all  cavil,  the  communicated  facts.  Nature 
might  have  been  constructed  so  meaningless,  or  the 
intuitive  energies  of  the  mind  might  have  been  so 
dull,  that,  for  any  practical  knowledge  of  the  char- 


288     NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

acter  and  will  of  the  Almighty,  we  should  be  obliged 
to  rely  entirely  on  definite  statements,  indorsed  by 
evidence  addressed  to  the  senses,  —  evidence  which 
should  always  consist  of  historical  and  material 
proof.  Beyond  any  attainable  depths  "a  lower 
deep  "  still  opens  in  the  infinite  ;  and,  as  the  scale 
of  revelation,  through  common  or  uncommon  means, 
is  solely  the  arbitrary  pleasure  of  the  Deity,  we  can 
discover  no  necessary  tie,  which,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  binds  the  truths  of  the  two  departments  into 
mutual  relationship  and  dependency. 

But  this,  although  it  might  have  been  the  order 
of  providence,  is  not  the  order  of  fact.  It  will  not 
be  pretended  by  any  —  we  think  not  by  the  blindest 
zealots  against  human  reason  —  that  there  is  no 
connection  subsisting  between  these  separate  ranges. 
It  is  the  plan  of  the  Infinite  Wisdom  not  to  over- 
power the  mind  by  certainty,  but  to  lead  it  along 
the  path  of  analogies  and  correspondences  and  prob- 
abilities, to  faith.  Nature  is  neither  so  empty  of 
moral  significance,  nor  the  mind  so  devoid  of  heav- 
enly attractions  and  spiritual  instincts,  nor  is  the 
dogmatic  and  extraordinary  evidence  of  revelation 
so  irresistible,  when  examined  by  itself,  as  to  require, 
on  the  one  hand,  or  to  permit  on  the  other,  the  in- 
troduction of  a  set  of  truths  claiming  to  be  a  reve- 
lation, and  yet  entirely  beyond  the  range,  and  in- 
dependent of  the  confirmation  and  support  which 
are  given  by  the  dim  testimony  of  the  outward  uni- 
verse and  the  soul  of  man.  And  thus,  while  we 
affirm  a'  radical  distinction  between  natural  and  re- 


'  NATURAL   AND   REVEALED   RELIGION.  289 

vealed  religion,  relatively  to  the  powers  of  the  mind, 
which  must  not  be  confounded,  neither  the  actual 
weakness  of  the  one  nor  the  admitted  strength  of 
the  other  will  allow  us  to  deny  that  they  do,  in 
some  way,  mutually  imply  and  sustain  each  other. 

If  the  supernatural  proofs  of  revelation  be  not 
assumed  to  be  in  themselves  entirely  overwhelming, 
so  as  to  repel  the  possibility  of  collateral  aid,  we 
may  state,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  truths  of 
revelation  must  be  connected  with  natural  relig- 
ion, at  least  to  this  extent ;  they  must  be  in  har- 
mony with  it ;  they  must  not  contradict  it.  For, 
with  the  present  constitution  of  human  reason,  it 
can  hardly  be  entertained  as  possible  that  any  pre- 
tended revelation  could  win  a  general  belief,  even 
though  seemingly  indorsed  by  miraculous  aid,  if  it 
contained  a  theory  of  God-  and  Nature  entirely  op- 
posed to  the  researches  of  science,  and  if  it  unfolded 
a  system  of  morals  from  which  the  finest  sensibili- 
ties of  conscience  spontaneously  recoiled.  Reason 
will  not  entertain  the  question  of  supernatural  testi- 
mony, if  it  be  vitiated  by  an  association  with  absurd- 
ities. Men  could  easily  evade  any  testimony  to  a 
miracle ;  they  would  distrust  their  senses  if  they 
saw  a  miracle  wrought  in  support  of  a  revolting 
scheme.  Such  a  system,  besides  miraculous  testi- 
mony, would  find  it  necessary  to  induce  a  miracu- 
lous change  on  human  reason,  and  as  an  indispen- 
sable preliminary  reverse  the  laws  of  the  intellect. 
And  thus,  with  the  present  structure  of  the  human 
mind,  the  possibility,  not  indeed  of  a  revelation's 

19 


290     NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION/ 

being  given,  but  of  its  gaining  credence,  involves 
the  necessity  of  its  being  in  harmony  with  the  gen- 
eral laws,  and  what  we  believe  to  be  the  possibilities 
of  nature. 

Farther  than  this,  moreover,  we  may  assert  that 
natural  religion  is  so  far  the  basis  of  revelation  that 
it  supplies  the  antecedent  probability  that  further 
and  higher  communications  from  the  Deity  will  be 
made.  The  argument  for  a  system  of  revealed  truth 
is  essentially  weakened  when  no  hints  and  no  prob- 
abilities can  be  detected  in  the  world  and  in  the 
wants  of  man,  which  that  system  meets  and  con- 
firms. The  defences  of  revelation  are  left  open  to 
the  inroads  of  scepticism  when  the  outposts  of  nat- 
ural analogies  and  confirmed  anticipations  have 
been  stormed  and  beaten  down.  Before  the  full 
weight  of  miraculous  evidence  even  can  be  appre- 
ciated, a  certain  prior  purity  in  our  conceptions  of 
the  unity  and  goodness  of  the  Almighty  is  almost 
indispensable.  Although  we  cannot  excuse  the  wil- 
ful enmity  of  the  Pharisees  to  Jesus,  still,  had  the 
Jewish  notions  of  God's  unity  been  sufficiently  pre- 
cise to  have  excluded  their  belief  in  the  power  of 
demons  and  the  hostile  agency  of  Beelzebub,  the 
miracles  of  Christ  would  have  exercised  a  greater 
power  over  their  unbelief.  Wherever  miraculous 
proof  is  obliged  to  meet  this  faith  in  the  duality  of 
agencies  which  control  the  powers  of  nature,  there 
must  be  some  circumstances  connected  with  the 
miracle  or  its  author  or  its  purpose,  which  deter- 
mine the  mind  from  its  prior  natural  associations, 


NATURAL   AND   REVEALED   RELIGION.  291 

to  ascribe  to  it  either  to  the  one  or  the  other  of  its 
preconceived  deities.  And  accordingly  as  these  cir- 
cumstances harmonize  with  the  supposed  proper 
agency  of  the  benevolent  or  malignant  power,  will 
the  revelation  be  accepted.  And  it  was,  perhaps, 
to  the  purity  of  the  Jewish  notions  of  the  power 
and  goodness  of  the  Deity,  and  to  the  harmony  of 
his  own  works  and  words  with  those  higher  views, 
that  Christ  appealed  as  an  argument  for  the  validity 
of  his  claims  in  that  language,  "  Ye  believe  in  God, 
believe  also  in  me." 

If  we  extend  our  inquiries  beyond  the  field  we 
have  already  occupied,  into  the  connection  between 
the  doctrines  of  Christianity  and  natural  religion, 
we  find  ourselves  perplexed  with  many  embarrassing 
problems.  The  truths  of  the  Christian  revelation 
were  above  the  attainments  and  capacity  of  the  age 
in  which  they  were  given.  There  was  nothing  in 
the  history  or  the  tendencies  of  religious  and  philo- 
sophical speculations  that  seemed  to  point  to  or 
promise  them.  Besides,  they  came  with  authority 
in  a  different  way  and  with  higher  sanctions  than 
truths  attained  by  unassisted  human  culture.  And 
thus  they  are  forever  separated  from  the  same  facts 
if  they  should  be  developed  by  moral  evidence 
alone.  This  cordially  granted  and  firmly  believed, 
the  question  of  the  exact  relation  between  the  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel  and  of  natural  religion  is  still 
a  question  of  speculative,  if  not  of  practical  inter- 
est, but  one  which,  from  the  difficulties  which  at- 
tend it  is,  in  our  opinion,  almost  if  not  entirely  in- 


292  NATURAL   AND   REVEALED   RELIGION. 

soluble.  To  receive  a  satisfactory  answer,  evidently 
we  should  first  understand  the  limits  of  intellectual 
power  in  the  domain  of  religion.  We  must  go  back 
to  the  time  when  revelation  was  given,  and  compre- 
hend not  only  what  men  had  learned  of  God  and 
nature,  and  not  only  what  .they  seemed  likely  to 
learn,  but  also  what,  by  the  sole  aid  of  thought  and 
culture,  they  could  ever  learn.  We  must  see  not 
merely  the  relation  of  the  new  doctrines  to  human 
attainment  thus  far,  but  also  to  the  possible  capac- 
ity of  reason.  We  must  understand  the  extent  to 
which  human  reason  uninfluenced  by  the  Bible,  can 
go  in  the  construction  of  a  religious  creed,  and  then 
look  into  the  schedule  of  revelation  and  note  the 
difference.  No  other  method  can  be  effectual.  The 
mind  of  Christ  was  above  his  time  ;  but  we  have 
no  authority  for  asserting  that,  in  the  course  of  cen- 
turies, some  spirit  could  not  naturally  arise  who 
should  discover  and  reveal  by  the  power  of  spiritual 
intuition  and  in  a  philosophical  form  many  of  the 
truths  which  Christ  revealed  by  authority  and  as  a 
religion.  We  can  never  prophesy  the  exact  limits 
of  intellectual  power.  History  warns  us  against 
doing  so.  The  genius  of  Plato  was  naturally  evolved 
from  the  capacities  of  the  Pelasgic  race.  But  who, 
in  Homer's  time,  could  have  conceived  the  pos- 
s.ibility  of  Platom'sm  !  It  would  have  been  a  rev- 
elation—  strange  enough — in  the  heroic  age.  Cul- 
tivation prepares  the  way  for  him,  however,  and 
Plato  comes,  the  perfection  of  Grecian  genius,  and 
by  a  singular  law,  at  the  declining  moment  of  Gre- 


NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION.     293 

cian  inspiration.  It  would  have  been  unwarranta- 
ble presumption  in  the  time  of  Copernicus,  or  even 
of  Hipparchus,  to  have  denied  the  possibility  of  an 
intellect  like  Newton's.  Every  genius  is  an  impos- 
sibility till  he  appears.  There  are  never  facts 
enough  in  human  experience  ^to  serve  as  a  basis  for 
safe  induction  as  to  the  mental  capacity  of  men. 
We  cannot  reach  the  law  that  governs  the  develop- 
ment of  genius.  Two  centuries  before  his  time 
Shakspeare  was  a  poetic  miracle ;  he  is  ~a  poetic 
wonder  still.  From  the  average  powers  of  boys  at 
ten,  it  would  seem  monstrous  that  there  should  be 
heads  like  those  of  Zera  Colburn  and  young  Saf- 
ford.  They  appear  like  new  planets  taking  a  wider 
sweep  in  the  universe  of  mind  ;  and  the  limits  of 
human  nature  are  carried  out.  And  so  it  is  now 
impossible  to  determine  how  far  the  doctrines  alone, 
of  Christianity,  separate  from  their  proofs  and  the 
circumstances  of  the  teacher,  were  merely  anticipa- 
tions of  possible  discoveries. 

It  may  be  urged,  however,  that  the  results  of  in- 
quiry, the  developments  of  research,  since  the  intro- 
duction of  Christianity,  have  extended  the  range  of 
natural  religion  ;  and,  therefore,  a  comparison  of 
the  results  of  the  two  systems  now  may  aid  us  in 
settling  the  question  of  mutual  influence.  But 
here  we  are  met  by  another  difficulty.  In  order 
that  this  method  should  be  effective,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  assume  that  revelation  has  had  no  in- 
fluence in  aiding  this  culture  and  unfolding  these 
results.  If  Christianity  has  not  been  entirely  inop- 


294     NATURAL  AND  EEVEALED  RELIGION. 

erative  as  an  intellectual  aid,  we  can  no  more  con- 
clude from  the  after  tendencies  and  triumphs  of 
thought  what  the  real  extent  of  natural  religion  is, 
than  from  the  former  weakness  and  failures  of 
thought  we  could  properly  have  concluded  what  its 
limits  must  be. 

"We  cannot  stop  to  discuss  the  question,  whether 
revelation  has  aided  the  discoveries  of  science ;  but 
we  think  it  is  evident  on  philosophical  grounds,  that 
the  religious  value  of  those  discoveries  has  been 
powerfully  affected  by  the  truths  of  the  gospel. 
And  now,  if  this  be  so,  instead  of  possessing  the 
pure  results  of  natural  religion  on  the  one  side,  and 
of  revelation  on  the  other,  we  have  both  blended. 
The  union  is  so  intimate  that  no  analysis  can  sepa- 
rate and  hold  the  elements  apart,  even  as  an  exper- 
iment. "We  have  no  moral  prism  to  divide  the  rays. 
Like  a  current  formed  by  the  junction  of  two 
streams,  the  waters  have  mixed  until  it  is  a  hope- 
less task  to  distinguish  the  drops,  and  refer  each 
one  accurately  to  its  original  source. 

Physiology,  for  instance,  and  an  acquaintance  with 
the  mutual  dependence  of  physical  laws  throughout 
the  universe,  have  unfolded  and  confirmed  the  idea 
of  God's  goodness,  and  have  transferred  it  to  natu- 
ral religion.  But  unless  that  conception  had  been 
supplied  beforehand  so  purely  by  the  gospel,  the  con- 
clusion could  not  be  reached  with  so  much  ease,  nor 
would  it  lie  in  the  mind  with  so  much  certainty. 
The  notion  itself  was  ready,  deeply  impressed  upon 
the  faith  of  men,  and  applied  to  the  facts  to  be  tried, 


NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION.     295 

not  reached  from  the  facts  alone  as  a  purely  induc- 
tive result.  The  force  of  the  gospel  was  in  it  as  a 
Christian  conception  when  given  :  it  lies  in  it  after 
it  is  established  seemingly  on  scientific  grounds 
alone.  The  idea  of  God's  spirituality  and  omnipres- 
ence lias  been  immensely  supported  by  inquiries 
into  the  essence  of  the  laws  of  nature,  and  by  the 
revelations  of  chemistry  and  astronomy.  But  they 
were  pure  ideas,  present  at  hand  to  be  interpreted  by 
science,  offered  as  hypotheses  immediately  to  natural 
religion  ;  they  were  not  really  the  suggested  notions 
after  the  facts  were  all  revealed,  the  key  proposed 
by  the  guess  of  some  shrewd  thinker  to  explain  the 
scientific  phenomena.  We  must  constantly  remem- 
ber that  the  Christian  mould  is  ever  ready  to  give 
the  facts  their  form.  Modern  philosophy  has  drawn, 
from  a  profound  investigation  of  the  phenomena  of 
evil,  a.  beautiful,  and  it  should  seem  impregnable 
argument,  in  confirmation  of  the  unity  and  the 
goodness  of  the  Creator.  In  this  respect  the  natural 
religion  of  our  times  is  incomparably  higher  than 
the  general  spirit  of  the  speculations  in  the  ancient 
classic  world.  For,  however  our  faith  may  still  be 
disturbed  at  times  by  the  sudden  and  violent  irrup- 
tion of  the  thoughts  of  evil  upon  the  mind,  the  ques- 
tion of  a  duality  of  agencies,  or  any  pure  malignity 
in  nature,  is  finally  set  at  rest  by  the  discovery  that 
seeming  evil  grows  out  of  the  same  root  with  good, 
is  always  the  incidental,  never  the  necessary  develop- 
ment of  the  same  law,  and  that  it  thus  points  to  the 
intentional  agency  of  One  who  has  included  it  in 


296     NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

the  plan  of  human  discipline,  and  inwoven  it  in  the 
web  of  being  for  some  design,  inexplicable  as  yet 
it  may  be,  of  ultimate  perfection.  Who  can  doubt 
that  this  discovery  has  resulted  naturally  from  the 
pressure  upon  the  mind  of  the  sublime  doctrine 
of  Christianity,  that  God  is  the  Father, —  a  doctrine 
which  has  become  so  intimately  a  part  of  our  religious 
cultivation,  and  which  lies  in  the  soul  with  such 
authoritative  power,  that  the  mind  has  felt  impelled 
to  probe  the  secrets  of  nature  to  their  last  hiding- 
places,  in  order  to  reconcile  its  cheering  faith  with 
the  gloomy  show  of  facts  ?  The  pure,  unceremonial 
theory  of  worship  too,  in  Christianity,  —  its  ritual  of 
deeds,  —  is  powerfully  supported  by  the  unfolded 
grandeur  of  the  universe ;  that  is,  all  which  we  have 
learned  of  nature  is  in  harmony  with  such  a  view 
of  God  and  piety.  But  we  cannot  know  that  the 
piety  required  by  St.  John  —  the  law  of  love  as  the 
highest  worship  —  would  have  been  evolved  from 
the  facts  which  now  give  to  it  additional  force. 
Christian  cultivation  and  Christian  views  of  the 
world  have  infused  themselves  into  the  whole  frame- 
work of  education.  Under  Christian  civilization, 
natural  science,  instead  of  being  obliged  to  encounter 
the  hostile  influence  of  a  degraded  and  impure 
system  of  religion,  instead  of  being  fettered  by 
anthropomorphic  and  physical  notions  of  the  Deity, 
established  by  a  theological  training  from  which  it 
must  work  itself  free,  is  aided  by  ideas  so  lofty  and 
spiritual  that  they  cannot  be  surpassed.  And  it  is 
these  ideas,  commented  on  arid  unfolded  by  science, 


NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION.     297 

of  which,  for  the  most  part,  natural  theology  now 
consists.  "For,  strictly  speaking,  induction  cannot 
reach  to  the  attributes  of  God  and  the  elements  of 
a  religion.  These  can  be  Known  only  from  a  com- 
plete survey  of  nature,  from  a  knowledge  of  all  the 
evidence  furnished  in  her  realm.  But  induction  can 
never  deal  with  more  than  a  partial,  limited  range  of 
facts.  And  thus,  what  is  claimed  in  modern  times 
to  be  natural  religion  exclusively,  is  merely  a  por- 
tion of  Christianity  given  as  hypotheses,  and  then 
translated  into  the  language  of  nature,  and  inter- 
preted by  the  facts  of  natural  research. 

We  would  insist  upon  this  point  as  one  of  vital 
importance  in  the  discussion  of  our  present  question. 
Every  student  of  philosophy,  and  of  the  laws  of 
scientific  discoveries,  knows  that  a  vital  portion  of 
the  process  of  discovery  consists  in  the  d  priori 
application  of  the  idea  which  is  appropriate  to  the 
facts  under  investigation.  The  mind  does  not  work 
mechanically,  even  in  observing  the  rigorous  rules 
of  induction.  With  Columbus,  the  causal  step  was 
taken  in  his  prophetic  and  firmly  held  conception 
of  the  roundness  of  the  globe.  The  failures  of 
Aristotle,  and  the  fundamental  error  of  all  Greek 
physical  speculation,  consisted  not  solely,  we  cannot 
say  chiefly,  in  a  false  scientific  method,  in  a  lack  of 
sufficient  observation  and  patient  classification,  but 
rather  in  the  reference  of  facts  to  inappropriate  ideas. 
In  mechanical  science,  the  fundamental  idea  upon 
which  all  discoveries  rest  is  the  conception  of  force 
as  the  cause  of  motion  ;  but  Aristotle,  in  attempting 


298     NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

the  solution  of  mechanical  problems,  refers  to 
geometrical  instead  of  mechanical  ideas.  Hence 
his  whole  system  is  confused,  and  even  his  correct 
conclusions  unscientific  and  accidental.  Had  Kepler 
distinctly  conceived  the  mechanical  character  of 
the  problem  to  be  resolved,  he  would  perhaps  have 
worn  Newton's  laurels  as  the  first  discoverer  of 
universal  gravitation.  The  great  obstruction  in  the 
way  of  the  further  progress  of  the  sciences  of  biol- 
ogy is,  as  scientific  men  inform  us,  the  confusion  of 
ideas  relative  to  the  principle  of  life,  and  a  lack  of 
clearness  in  the  conceptions  of  assimilation,  secretion, 
and  voluntary  motion.  The  possibility  of  any  theol- 
ogy depends  on  the  despotic  demands  of  the  idea 
of  cause,  which  will  not  suffer  the  mind  to  rest  till 
it  has  solved  the  question  of  creation.  And  any 
one  can  see  that  an  essential  alteration,  or  a  lack  of 
clearness  in  the  idea  of  skill,  would  disturb  mate- 
rially the  domain  and  alter  the  value  of  natural 
theology.  Seeing  that  every  science  is  constructed 
of  intellectual  and  a  priori  elements,  as  well  as  of 
materials  given  by  experience,  a  modern  philosopher, 
Mr.  Whewell,  has  proved  at  length,  in  his  "  Philoso- 
phy of  the  Inductive  Sciences,"  that  the  advance  of 
knowledge  depends  as  much  on  the  clear  "  explica- 
tion of  conceptions,"  as  on  the  proper  "  collegation 
of  facts." 

And  thus,  on  rigid  principles  of  science,  we  see 
the  aid  which  Christianity  has  extended  to  Natural 
Religion.  It  has  furnished  to  it  those  pure  concep- 
tions which  have  thrown  light  on  nature,  while  in 


NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION.     299 

turn  they  have  been  strengthened  by  the  evidence 
from  nature.  In  no  case  can  it  be  claimed  that  the 
evidence  of  science  has  gone  one  jot  beyond  the 
proper  interpretation  of  gospel  theology.  Strike 
out  the  doctrine  of  universal  moral  providence  from 
the  record  of  Christ's  teachings,  and,  destitute  of  the 
prior,  unconscious  aid  of  that  conception,  modern 
research  would  find  it  hard  to  restore  it.  The 
revelations  of  science,  by  showing  us  God's  action 
to  be  seemingly  omnipresent  in  outward  nature,  give 
to  it  the  strong  support  of  analogy,  and  help  us  to 
conceive  it  in  its  simple  beauty.  But  they  go  no 
farther ;  and  they  go  thus  far  by  the  aid  of  the  idea 
of  universal  providence,  supplied  in  advance  from 
the  Bible  itself.  And  even  here,  we  may  say  tliat 
the  essence  of  the  argument  was  anticipated  by 
Christ's  figure  of  the  lilies,  and  in  his  allusions  to 
the  esoteric  theology  of  the  sunshine  and  rain. 

At  all  points,  in  the  development  of  what  is  called 
natural  religion,  the  truths  of  Christianity  have 
served  as  categories  of  our  spiritual  nature,  which, 
by  their  positive  influence,  have  assisted  in  the  crea- 
tion of  natural  religion.  As,  in  intellectual  philos- 
ophy, the  ideas  of  cause  and  substance  and  relation 
are  furnished  from  the  mind  as  part  of  the  struct- 
ure of  knowledge,  so  the  doctrines  of  providence 
and  immortality  and  omnipresence  have  been  fur- 
nished from  the  gospel,  as  the  cement  of  rational 
theology.  They  are  the  unconscious  forms,  the 
divine  die,  impressed  upon  the  facts  offered  by  sci- 
ence, and  imparting  to  them  a  significance  which 


300     NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

they  might  never  have  acquired.  Thus  we  see  the 
utter  impossibility  of  following  the  two  provinces 
into  any  parallel  developments  for  the  purpose  of 
comparing  their  value  and  unfolding  their  relations. 
The  demand  upon  natural  religion  should  be  to  fur- 
nish her  positive  and  independent  doctrines  as  to 
God,  providence,  and  destiny ;  when,  in  reality,  the 
conclusions  of  another  system  have  been  interwoven 
and  used  as  aids  in  unfolding  the  testimony  of  her 
facts.  The  two  systems,  to-day,  are  inextricably  in- 
volved. And  so  long  as  we  have  no  moral  calculus 
through  which  we  can  reason  mechanically,  by  signs, 
upon  questions  which  baffle  the  analysis  of  simple 
thought,  we  cannot  hope  to  answer  the  question  of 
their  relation  with  much  precision. 

Of  course,  we  must  not  forget  that,  so  far  as  evi- 
dence for  the  truth  of  the  gospel  is  concerned,  this 
concurrent  and  corroborative  testimony  of  science  is 
of  great  importance.  It  should  be  a  matter  of  the 
deepest  joy  to  every  Christian  believer.  It  furnishes 
a  powerful  weapon  against  scepticism,  and  valuable 
assistance  to  a  failing  faith.  The  significance  of 
revelation  itself,  doubtless,  expands  in  proportion  to 
our  acquaintance  with  the  mysteries  of , the  world. 
So  that,  other  things  being  equal,  the  best  Christian 
may  be  he  who  has  drunk  deepest  at  the  fountain  of 
wisdom,  and  who  has  seen  the  harmony  between 
God's  works  and  word.  Science,  also,  may  be  val- 
uable to  correct  errors  which  had  arisen  from  a  mis- 
*  construction  of  revelation.  And,  as  we  said  before, 
if  the  results  of  science  positively  contradicted  the 


NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION.      301 

statements  of  revelation,  it  would  be  impossible  to 
preserve  our  faith.  All  this  does  not  affect  our  po- 
sition. We  are  seeking  to  determine,  not  precisely 
the  religious  value  of  the  discoveries  of  science,  nor 
what  might  have  occurred  had  they  been  different, 
but  how  far  they  may  claim  to  be  the  trophies  of 
unaided  reason.  And  so  long  as  the  truths  of  nat- 
ural religion  do  coincide,  so  far  as  they  go,  with  the 
truths  of  Christianity,  it  is  improper,  seeing  the  in- 
fluence of  revelation  in  disclosing  them,  that  they 
be  attributed  to  the  original  creative  power  of  the 
mind. 

Setting  aside,  then,  the  endeavor  to  determine 
the  exact  relations  between  Christianity  and  natural 
religion  as  hopeless,  we  would  define  the  general 
relations  thus :  that  it  is  one  office  of  revelation 
to  aid  human  reason,  and  assist  it  to  see  for  itself. 
It  does  not  follow,  because  the  Almighty  communi- 
cates a  set  of  truths  by  supernatural  means,  at  a 
time  when  the  world  is  waiting  for  a  new  impulse 
in  its  march,  that  it  was  his  intention  those  truths 
should  always  remain  above  the  capacity  and  be- 
yond the  reach  of  reason.  It  does  not  follow  that 
reason,  once  quickened  and  assisted,  may  not  think 
up  to  them,  at  least,  so  far  as  to  see  their  natural 
harmony.  Revelation  we  believe  to  be  a  benevolent 
condescension  of  the  Deity  to  the  weakness  of  the 
race.  It  is  intended  not  only  to  relieve  a  present 
darkness  of  mind,  but  also,  in  that  process,  to  infuse 
greater  strength  of  mind  for  the  future.  It  is  spir-* 
itual  food  to  the  famishing  soul,  appeasing  want, 


302     NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

and  also  strengthening  the  fibres  for  a  greater  vigor. 
Thus  many  of  the  truths  supernaturally  revealed  to 
the  Jews  are  perfectly  simple  to  us.  To  them, 
Christ's  theory  of  spiritual  worship,  his  doctrines 
that  the  Sabbath  was  made  for  man,  and  that  all 
men  are  brethren,  were  new  and  startling.  They 
were  not  only  above  their  reason,  but  they  shook 
their  reason.  They  were  blasphemous,  for  they  con- 
tradicted the  laws  of  Moses.  To  our  cultivated 
minds  they  seem  plain  and  natural :  the  influence 
of  the  truths  has  purified  and  refined  our  spiritual 
nature  until,  to  a  Christian  of  to-day,  these  propo- 
sitions seem  religious  axioms,  hardly  demanding  the 
support  of  any  proof.  One  great  office  of  a  revelation, 
one  law  of  its  coming,  seems  answered  and  fulfilled 
when  the  faculties  which  it  has  awakened  by  their 
expanding  growth  embrace  its  leading  truths,  and 
make  them  part  of  the  constitution  of  natural  theol- 
ogy. A  constant  accommodation  of  the  teachings  of 
the  Deity  to  the  demands  and  capacities  of  the  race 
is  one  of  the  plainest  lessons  unfolded  in  the  Scrip- 
tures. Eevelation  is  for  human  assistance,  as  well 
as  for  human  satisfaction.  Men  thought  up  to  the 
patriarchal  dispensation ;  it  assisted  the  piety  of 
the  aged  patriarchs,  but,  as  a  whole,  failed  to  satisfy 
the  demands  of  reason  and  the  necessities  of  a 
denser  population ;  and  the  patriarchal  dispensation 
melted  into  the  dawning  light  of  the  Mosaic  econ- 
omy. Men  thought  up  to  Judaism ;  its  spiritual 
nutriment  became  absorbed  until,  in  a  large  party, 
the  advanced  spiritualists  of  the  Saviour's  time,  the 


NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION.     303 

Simeons  and  Annaus  of  Israel,  a  want  was  created 
which  Judaism,  with  its  spiritual  commentary,  the 
prophetic  dispensation,  could  not  satisfy ;  and  al- 
though it  had  been  given  from  God's  own  hand  to 
Moses,  Judaism  was  withdrawn  with  a  signal  mani- 
festation of  the  sanction  of  the  Deity.  It  was  with- 
drawn, not  in  the  sense  of  being  overthrown,  but  by 
being  fulfilled,  carried  up  to  a  higher  law.  Chris- 
tianity we  believe  to  be  a  final  religious  dispensation, 
not  because  it  is  a  Revelation,  but  because  it  con- 
tains within  itself  an  expansive  power  as  a  revela- 
tion, able  to  quicken  the  capacities  of  the  humblest 
mind,  to  satisfy  the  deepest  spiritual  desires  which 
it  calls  forth,  to  aid  the  energies  of  the  intellect, 
itself  expanding  with  the  discoveries  of  science, 
keeping  ever  in  advance  of  the  soul,  and  filling  the 
loftiest  mind  with  its  ideal  of  excellence  and  its 
views  of  God.  Making  allowance  for  the  necessary 
difference  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  we  should  say 
that  revelation  has  done  for  theology  what  Newton 
did  for  science.  It  has  introduced  and  established 
principles  which  were,  and  perhaps  would  always 
have  remained,  above  the  capacity  of  the  intellect, 
but  which,  once  developed,  may  aid  the  mind,  at 
last,  to  see  and  comprehend  their  reasonableness 
and  force.  Strike  the  Bible  from  the  hearts  of  men, 
erase  the  memory  of  it  forever  from  their  minds, 
leave  them  the  cultivation  it  has  infused,  and  though 
on  far  less  satisfactory  evidence,  many  of  the  tenets 
of  Christian  theology  would  be  reconstructed.  The 
light  which  the  gospel  has  kindled  in  the  mind 


304     NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

would  reveal  a  vast  significance  in  nature  and  in 
man. 

Not  comprehending  this  one  office  of  revelation 
as  the  educator  of  the  race,  many  in  our  time  use 
the  fact  of  the  education  as  an  argument  against  the 
necessity  of  supernatural  aid  from  God.  They  can- 
not see  its  value,  and  deny  the  fact.  But  they 
stand  in  the  unfortunate  position  of  denying  it,  by 
virtue  of  the  very  assistance  which  from  it  they 
have  insensibly  received.  To  their  enlarged  capac- 
ity of  mind  the  speech  of  nature  is  sufficient.  Her 
language  is  articulate  to  them,  and  they  can  under- 
stand it.  But  their  enlarged  capacity  of  mind  for- 
gets to  recognize  the  cause  of  its  enlargement. 
They  inherit  the  power  by  which  they  see.  It  is  an 
endowment  of  the  very  revelation  whose  value  they 
decry.  They  transfer  their  own  capacity  of  com- 
prehension back  to  the  time  when  revelation  was 
given,  and  imagine  that  men  could  easily  have  orig- 
inated what  they  now  so  clearly  comprehend.  Be- 
cause revelation  has,  for  them,  fulfilled  a  portion  of 
its  office  by  aiding  them  to  see  the  reasonableness 
and  simplicity  of- all  its  doctrines,  they  talk  of  the 
intuitions  of  the  soul,  and  wonder  that  men  can  be 
so  credulous  as  to  admit  the  former  need  of  any 
revelation.  By  a  too  frequent  ingratitude  they  for- 
get, in  their  pride  of  power  and  place,  the  friend  to 
whom  they  owe  their  elevation.  While  light  is  re- 
flected back  to  them  in  some  one  of  its  varied  hues 
from  every  object  in  the  universe,  while  the  whole 
air  is  inundated  by  a  general  flood  of  brilliancy, 


NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION.     305 

they  calmly  turn  to  their  less  philosophic  neighbors, 
and,  brandishing  their  torches,  themselves  kindled 
from  the  bounty  of  a  Divine  Prometheus,  cry, 
"  Foolish  men,  to  think  that,  amidst  this  all-embrac- 
ing splendor,  the-  radiance  of  our  rush-lights,  we 
need  that  distant  sun  !  "  Is  it  not  as  if  school-boys, 
because,  with  their  limited  faculties  and  untrained 
thought,  they  can  understand  something  of  the 
symmetry,  and  take  in  the  vast  proportions  of  the 
universe,  should,  therefore,  while  they  stand  upon 
their  shoulders,  decry  the  value  and  revile  the  use- 
less labors  of  Newton  and  La  Place ! 

Since  our  last  article  was  written  we  have  met 
with  such  a  calm  and  vigorous  statement  from  the 
pen  of  Dr.  Neander,  of  the  truth  which,  in  the  last 
few  pages,  we  have  endeavored  to  present,  that  we 
cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  transcibe  it  here. 
"  Although  Christianity  can  be  understood  only  as 
something  which  is  above  nature  and  reason,  some- 
thing communicated  to  them  from  a  higher  source, 
yet  it  stands  in  necessary  connection  with  the  es- 
sence of  these  powers  and  with  their  mode  of  devel- 
opment ;  otherwise,  indeed,  it  could  not  be  fitted  to 
elevate  them  to  any  higher  stage;  otherwise  it  would 
not  operate  on  them  at  all.  And  accordingly,  we 
see  the  evidence  of  this  connection  whenever  we  ob- 
serve how  human  nature  and  reason  do,  by  virtue 
of  their  original  capacity,  actually  strive  in  flieir 
historical  development  towards  this  higher  principle 
which  needs  to  be  communicated  to  them  in  order 
to  their  own  completion  ;  and  how,  by  the  same 
20 


306     NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

capacity,  they  are  made  receptive  of  this  principle, 
and  conducted  onward  till  they  yield  to  it,  and 
become  moulded  by  its  influence.  It  is  simply  be- 
cause such  a  connection  exists,  because  in  all  cases 
where,  through  the  historic  preparation,  the  soil  has 
been  rendered  suitable  for  its  reception,  Christianity 
enters  readily  into  all  that  is  human,  striving  to  as- 
similate it  to  its  own  nature,  and  to  interpenetrate  it 
with  its  own  power,  that  on  a  superficial  view  it  ap- 
pears as  if  Christianity  itself  were  only  a  product 
resulting  from  a  combination  of  the  different  spirit- 
ual elements  it  had  drawn  together ;  and  the  opin- 
ion has  found  advocates,  that  it  could  thus  be 
explained."  * 

We  return,  then,  to  the  idea  that  there  is  but  one 
religion,  by  whatever  means  its  truths  be  attained. 
So  far  as  they  are  developed  by  the  natural  opera- 
tion of  the  mind,  it  is  natural  religion ;  so  far  as 
they  are  supplied  by  a  higher  power  in  advance  of 
the  capacity  of  the  soul,  it  is  revealed  ;  while  so  far 
as  the  elements  of  it  are  established  or  strengthened 
by  physical  and  natural  evidence,  after  the  truths 
have  been  supernaturally  communicated,  it  is  the 
common  product  of  revelation  and  reason,  and  can- 
not be  considered  to  be  exclusively  either. 

From  what  has  now  been  said,  it  will  be  seen 
that  an  exact  determination  of  the  extent  of  natural 
religion,  compared  with  Christian  theology,  cannot 
be  attained.  We  cannot  know  how  far  the  mind 

1  Neander's  History  of  the   Christian   Religion  and  Church,   recent 
Boston  edition,  page  2  of  the  Introduction. 


NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION.     307 

of  Christ,  in  its  authoritative  disclosures,  merely 
anticipated  the  future  power  of  speculative  reason, 
and  thus  foreclosed  the  possibility  of  their  original 
and  natural  development.  We  cannot  say  in  what 
degree  the  religious  results  of  science  have  been 
produced  by  the  influence  of  Christian  perceptions, 
applied  to  and  aiding  the  discoveries  of  the  mind. 
What  might  have  been  had  Christianity  been  with- 
held, precisely  what  has  been  done  because  it  was 
given,  we  are  equally  unable  to  unfold.  Enough, 
however,  can  be  seen  not  only  in  the  apparent  in- 
fluence which  the  gospel  has  exerted  on  the  world, 
but  also  in  the  effect  and  the  fortunes  of  former  re- 
ligious communications,  to  confirm  the  belief  that  it 
is  one  great  office  of  Christianity  to  quicken  reason 
and  assist  its  growth,  to  aid  it  in  seeing  for  itself 
the  natural  grounds  on  which  its  doctrines  rest. 
And  thus  it  seems  to  be  the  mission  of  Christianity 
to  efface  the  distinctive  line  which  separates  natu- 
ral religion,  as  an  independent  system,  from  its  own 
revelations.  The  gospel  is  continually  absorbing  it 
into  its  own  sphere.  What  is  called  natural  relig- 
ion to-day,  whether  founded  on  scientific  or  moral 
research,  on  inquiries  into  the  world  of  nature  or 
the  world  of  man,  is  but  the  demonstration,  on  other 
grounds,  of  Christian  truths, — the  commentary  and 
exposition  of  the  spiritual  aphorisms  of  the  Saviour. 
We  talk  of  the  moral  evidence  afforded  by  the 
satisfaction  which  the  gospel  gives  to  the  deepest 
wants  of  the  soul.  One  of  the  strongest  natural 
arguments  for  Christianity  is,  that  in  proportion  as 


308     NATUKAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

we  rise  in  spiritual  excellence,  and  live  in  a  higher 
sphere,  a  stronger  sense  of  certainty  in  regard  to  its 
foundation  lakes  possession  of  the  heart.  This  is 
right.  But  we  must  remember,  also,  that  the  gospel 
has  created  many  of  those  wants  ;  it  refines  the  spir- 
itual capacities  of  the  mind,  and  then  satisfies  them 
by  its  purity ;  it  elevates  us  into  the  very  sphere 
from  which  we  derive  this  influx  and  inspiration  of 
spiritual  peace.  Christianity  is  "  a  well  of  water, 
springing  up  into  everlasting  life."  Although  it  be 
true  as  an  evidence,  "  If  ye  do  his  will  ye  shall  know 
of  the  doctrine  whether  it  be  of  God,"  it  is  the  Reve- 
lation of  the  nature  of  the  will  which  is  the  real 
condition  of  the  promised  proof.  To  the  piety  of 
Fenelon  no  doubts  may  come ;  but  it  is  Christian 
education  which  nourishes  and  refines  that  piety. 
The  overflowing  compassion,  the  boundless  love  of 
the  gospel,  may  be  satisfactory  proof  of  its  Divinity 
to  the  benevolent  soul  of  Howard  ;  but  Christian 
culture  had  much  to  do  with  preparing  in  his  heart 
the  capacity  for  that  satisfaction.  The  mind  of 
Newton,  filled  with  the  simplicity  and  grandeur  of 
Creative  Wisdom,  may  be  sustained  and  strength- 
ened greatly  in  its  faith  by  the  purity  of  the  Chris- 
tian ritual ;  but  it  was  partly  owing  to  the  prior  and 
elevating  effects  of  that  purity  upon  his  religious 
nature  that  he  was  enabled  to  see  its  harmony  with 
the  universe.  And  thus  in  the  moral,  as  in  the 
material  world,  Christianity  has  supplied  the  very 
means,  which  in  their  operation,  have  returned  so 
many  proofs ;  it  has  planted  the  seeds  which  have 


NATURAL  AND  EEVEALED  RELIGION.     309 

rewarded  the   sower  with  such  'an  abundant  har- 
vest. 

It  is  a  sign  of  hope,  for  the  permanence  of  the 
gospel,  that  it  sustains  this  relation  to  what  is 
termed  natural  religion.  For  it  is  owing  alone  to 
the  complete  harmony  between  the  statements  of 
revelation  and  the  discovered  testimony  of  nature 
that  it  becomes  so  difficult  to  analyze  and  separate 
them.  Christianity  furnishes  the  key  by  which  to 
read  the  cipher  of  the  world.  The  solution  is  fitted 
to  all  the  difficulties  of  the  enigma,  else  the  elements 
would  not  yield  so  consistently  to  the  interpretation. 
From  the  domain  of  natural  religion  is  echoed  back 
the  voice  of  revelation; — an  echo  so  distinct  that  it 
has  been  taken  for  an  original  tone.  Were  there  a 
dissonance,  not  only  should  we  hear  it,  but  it  would 
disturb  the  security  of  our  firmly-rooted  faith. 

And  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten,  besides,  that  this 
sympathy  between  the  doctrines  of  science  and 
Christianity,  although  complete  in  many  instances, 
does  not  at  all  lessen  the  value  and  the  continual 
need  of  the  assurances  of  the  gospel.  Let  Chris- 
tianity quicken  the  faculties  and  exalt  the  energies 
of  our  nature  as  it  may,  it  cannot  discharge  itself 
completely  into  the  reason  of  man.  At  every  stage, 
in  the  great  academy,  the  authority  of  the  teacher 
is  needed  still. '  On  many  points,  and  those  too  of 
the  deepest  interest,  it  is  and  must  always  be  our 
only  available  instructor.  Nature  gives  no  definite 
proof  that  God  is  the  Father,  and  so  far  as  mere 
science  is  concerned,  it  removes  objections  to  rather 


310     NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

than  furnishes  arguments  for  a  future  life.  By  the 
strong  confirmation  it  lends  to  other  points  of  Chris- 
tian theology,  it  strengthens  our  confidence  in  the 
truth  of  these,  and  thus  leads  the  mind  so  far  on 
the  way  of  analogy  as  to  give  foundation  for  a  faith 
that,  could  more  be  known  of  nature,  they  might 
easily  be  discovered  there.  It  prepares  us,  in  a  word, 
to  listen  with  deeper  reverence  to  the  prayer  of 
Jesus,  and  to  hear  with  greater  joy  the  language, 
"/  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life." 

And  if,  as  the  teacher  of  much  of  the  natural  re- 
ligion we  have,  we  discover  the  superiority  of  Chris- 
tianity to  the  whole  scheme,  we  must  also  add,  that 
the  evidence  which  the  gospel  brings  removes  it  yet 
farther  and  higher.  However  we  may  legitimate  the 
miraculous  proof,  when  once  heartily  received,  it 
gives  us  a  repose  different  from  the  common  results 
of  moral  probability.  Let  us  feel  that  a  truth  is 
spoken  from  God,  by  his  special  sanction,  and,  al- 
though that  sanction  does  not  make  the  truth  truer, 
it  gives  it  greater  intensity  and  force  with  our  own 
minds.  Men  will  not  worship  mathematics,  and 
whatever  religious  ideas  stand  entirely  upon  the 
skill  and  logic  of  the  intellect,  are  so  vitiated  by  an 
association  with  the  weaknesses  of  our  nature  as 
to  stand  as  a  system  of  philosophy  alone.  So  that, 
whether  it  be  honorable  or  derogatory  to  men,  it  is 
a  principle  of  our  constitution,  dispute  about  it  as 
we  may,  that  when  we  have  satisfactorily  established 
the  fact  by  reason,  that  an  idea  comes  from  God, 
we  have  given  it  greater  force  than  when',  by  simple 


NATURAL  AND  REVEALED  RELIGION.     311 

demonstration,  we  end  with  the  discovery  that  it  is 
true.  In  some  way  the  mystery  of  the  Infinite  hallows 
it,  while  science  and  logic  give  to  it  only  a  clear, 
cold,  icy  lustre.  This  sanction  which  lends  such  a 
religious  authority  to  truths,  which  quickens  and 
impels  the  conscience  to  fulfil  the  moral  obligations 
which  they  imply,  natural  religion  cannot  be  ex- 
pected ever  to  acquire.  The  halo  which  encircles 
the  head  of  Jesus  will  never  radiate,  in  the  imagi- 
nation of  the  world,  from  the  sharp  outlines  of  a 
metaphysician's  face.  The  force,  too,  which  the 
life  of  Christ  has  exercised  over  men  as  a  revelation 
of  duty,  and  of  the  beauty  of  Christian  life,  must 
forever  remain  a  distinct  peculiarity  of  the  gospel. 
And  thus,  in  many  ways,  the  revelation  in  Chris- 
tianity, from  its  peculiar  nature  and  evidence,  is 
placed  above  and  beyond  tlie  reach  of  natural  re- 
ligion. Received  in  faith,  it  is  the  key  published 
with  authority,  containing  the  answers  to  the  prob- 
lems of  creation,  duty,  and  destiny.  And  though 
science  and  philosophy  may  go  on,  furnishing  their 
demonstrations  and  their  solutions  on  natural 
grounds,  it  cannot  fail  to  give  their  answers  addi- 
tional weight,  when  we  may  look  into  the  key,  and 
find  that  they  coincide  with  the  solutions  offered 
there. 


XIV. 

THE  IDEA  OF  GOD  AND  THE  TRUTHS   OF 
CHRISTIANITY. 


THERE  are  two  roads  to  a  satisfactory  faith  in 
Christianity,  —  cultivation  of  the  higher  feelings, 
and  education  of  the  mind.  Men  belong  in  differ- 
ent classes,  and  arrive  at  truth  in  different  ways, 
according  as  spiritual  sympathies  or  a  critical  under- 
standing gives  the  tone  or  temper  to  their  nature. 
Some  become  conscious  of  faith  by  what  is  called 
intuition, — the  quick  and  uncoinprehended  response 
of  their  souls  to  a  given  doctrine  or  principle  ;"  others 
are  led  to  faith  by  the  gradual  perception  of  its  logi- 
cal legitimacy.  A  weight  may  be  attracted  and  held 
up  by  a  loadstone,  or  it  can  be  suspended  on  a  hook  ; 
and  we  may  say  that  one  class  of  minds  are  brought 
in  contact  with  truth  in  a  manner  analogous  to  the 
first  of  these  methods,  another  class  in  a  manner 
analogous  to  the  last.  In  the  souls  of  one  class 
truth  exists  rather  as  a  deep  sympathy  ;  they  feel  it 
more  warmly,  and  utter  it  with  greater  force  ;  in  the 
minds  of  another  class,  it  dwells  rather  as  a  clear 
idea ;  having  attained  it  by  clear  reflection,  they 
see  it  more  distinctly,  and  present  it  more  method- 
ically to  others. 

312 


THE   IDEA   OF   GOD,   ETC.  313 

What  is  stated  thus  as  a  general  principle  is  pe- 
culiarly applicable  to  the  evidences  of  Christianity. 
The  heart  may  become  so  pure  and  all  the  moral 
affections  so  refined  that  Christian  principles  shall 
be  acknowledged  intuitively  to  be  the  natural  laws* 
of  the  soul,  and  the  character  of  Christ  shall  be 
accepted  spontaneously  as  the  model  of  our  nature  ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  intellect  may  be  so 
trained  and  applied  that  the  proofs  for  the  truth 
and  claims  of  Christianity  will  exercise  an  over- 
whelming force.  To  minds  of  a  certain  order,  the 
natural  door  to  Christian  faith  is  through  the  head ; 
Christianity  as  a  whole  is  set  before  them  as  a  prob- 
lem for  solution,  and  their  reason  is  determined 
toward  assent  or  scepticism  by  the  historical  or  phi- 
losophical arguments  which  can  be  adduced  in  its 
behalf.  And  there  are  other  minds  that  never  think 
to  inquire  into  the  scientific  claims  of  the  gospel  as 
a  system,  who  yet  rely  with  undisturbed  assurance 
on  the  satisfaction  and  peace  which  faithfulness  to 
Christian  laws  infuses  into  the  soul.  The  former 
examine  Christianity,  and  find  that  all  the  condi- 
tions of  belief  are  fulfilled  in  the  evidences  which 
may  be  presented,  and  therefore  they  cannot  doubt ; 
the  latter  are  not  prompted  to  examine,  and  never 
doubt,  because  they  naturally  believe. 

We  may  assume,  I  think,  that  among  the  disciples 
of  the  Saviour,  John  was  a  type  of  the  last-named 
order  of  natures,  and  Thomas  of  the  first.  In  the 
language  of  Jesus,  too,  we  find  allusions  to  this 
difference  in  the  structure  of  men's  souls.  To  one 


314  THE   IDEA   OF  GOD 

class  of  Jews  he  said,  "  Ye  believe  not,  because  ye 
are  not  of  my  sheep;  "  their  natures  had  seemingly 
no  affinities  with  his  doctrines  and  demands  ;  while 
he  affirmed  the  same  principle  in  a  positive  form  in 
the  passage,  "  all  that  are  of  the  truth  hear  my 
voice."  Upon  another  class  he  urged  the  propriety 
of  believing  "  for  the  very  work's  sake,"  because 
the  argument  for  his  supernatural  mission  was  too 
strong  to  be  resisted.  And  in  all  ages  of  the  church 
has  this  distinction  been  apparent.  The  faith-  of 
Fenelon,  and  the  faith  of  Chillingworth,  when  ana- 
lyzed, reveal  the  power  of  different  methods  to  in- 
duce conviction.  Refined  sentiment,  through  the 
spiritual  insight  which  it  quickens,  and  the  attrac- 
tions which  it  brings  into  play,  and  rigorous  logic, 
the  power  of  persuasion  which  it  may  exert  upon 
the  reason,  will  equally  generate  a  healthy  confi- 
dence in  the  truth  of  the  great  features'"  of  the  gos- 
pel. The  soul  may  be  lifted  into  an  instinctive 
assurance  ;  the  mind  may  be  coerced  into  a  lagging 
assent. 

The  proofs  of  Christianity  which  may  be  brought 
to  satisfy  reason  are  of  two  kinds.  We  may  pre- 
sent the  historical  argument  which  establishes  the 
facts  of  the  gospel  narratives,  or  we  may  urge  the 
harmony  which  the  truths  of  Christianity  manifest 
with  the  religion  of  nature,  and  trace  the  probabili- 
ties that  follow  from  an  adequate  idea  of  God. 

Of  the  two  departments  of  evidence  for  the 
divine  authority  of  the  gospel,  the  first  or  practical 
argument  is  undoubtedly  the  highest,  and  induces 


AND   THE   TEUTHS   OP   CHRISTIANITY.  315 

in  sensitive  and  cultivated  hearts  the  most  secure 
and  cheerful  faith.  It  cannot  be  questioned,  either, 
that  the  historical  evidences  may  be  so  arrayed  that 
a  sceptical  mind  cannot  evade,  and  must  acknowl- 
edge their  strength.  It  is  the  design  of  this  article, 
however,  to  consider  particularly  the  last  division 
of  the  logical  defences  of  Christianity,  —  to  show 
by  a  rapid  survey,  and  such  suggestions  as  our  re- 
stricted limits  will  enable  us  to  present,  how  natu- 
rally the  principles  of  the  New  Testament  theology 
evolve  themselves  from-  the  conception  which  we 
are  obliged  to  form  of  God.  Such  an  argument 
should  be  often  urged  in  this  day,  we  believe,  since 
it  is  calculated  to  meet  the  state  of  mind  of  many 
in  our  time  who  give  little  attention  to  the  historical' 
proofs  of  Christianity,  and  who  are  afflicted  with  a 
lurking  scepticism. 

When  we  talk  with  intelligent  persons  on  relig- 
ious topics,  such  as  piety,  providence,  prayer,  a 
future  life,  etc.,  we  are  often  met  by  the  remark : 
"  I  believe  in  a  Supreme  Being,  an  overruling 
agency,  but  farther  than  that  I  am  very  ignorant, 
it  is  all  uncertain  and  dark."  This  is  either  the  po- 
lite way  in  which  many  persons  intimate  their  scep- 
ticism to  clergymen,  or  the  natural  mode  in  which 
it  unconsciously  breaks  out.  Every  minister  knows 
that  there  is  a  large  class  of  men  who  will  readily 
confess,  when  their  intimate  confidence  is  secured, 
that  they  have  no  staunch,  firm  faith  in  the  teach- 
ings of  the  gospel,  that  they  cannot  pretend  to  that 
serene  conviction  which  induces  general  equanimity 


316  THE  IDEA   OP  GOD 

of  soul.  And  yet  they  are  very  earnest  in  asserting 
unwavering  belief  in  God.  They  are  perfectly  con- 
fident of  his  existence,  but  their  creed  contains  no 
other  article  of  faith,  and  here  their  confession  ends. 
Now  this  is  the  state  of  mind  for  which  there  is 
the  least  possible  excuse.  Setting  aside  the  histor- 
ical and  practical  evidences  of  the  gospel,  a  Chris- 
tian can  easily  show  the  folly  of  this  narrow,  barren 
deism  which  contents  itself  with  a  confession  of 
the  existence  of  a  Deity,  and  declares  its  ignorance 
of  all  other  elements  of  religion.  If  a  man  does 
not  believe  more  ;  if  his  religious  faith  does  not  ex- 
tend a  good  deal  farther  than  the  proposition  there 
is  a  God,  —  the  trouble  is  that  he  does  not 'firmly 
believe  that,  or  does  not  have  a  worthy  conception  of 
the  God  of  nature.  For  no  person  with  a  healthy 
mind,  it  seems  to  us,,  can  have  an  enlightened  faith 
in  God,  without  seeing  that  the  main  elements  of 
Christian  theology  are  involved  in  that  belief,  and 
must  be  accepted  with  it.  The  alternative  for 
every  fair  logical  mind  is,  atheism  or  a  broad  Chris- 
tian theory  of  life.  There  is  no  middle  ground  on 
which  the  intellect  can  stand.  It  is  a  characteristic  of 
every  system  of  simple  truth  that  the  whole  scheme 
is  implied  in  each  position,  as  the  whole  structure 
of  an  animal  or  fish  may  be  constructed  from  a 
fossil  tooth  or  scale.  And  Christianity  has  the  un- 
answerable argument  in  its  favor,  that  all  its  doc- 
trines seem  to  be  the  natural  evolution  of  our  high- 
est conception  of  God.  The  pure  deist  is  the  most- 
illogical  of  all  men  ;  and  the  language  of  Jesus  to 


AND   THE   TRUTHS    OF   CHRISTIANITY.  317 

his  disciples  states  with  fine  simplicity  the  force  of 
the  natural  argument  for  his  religion :  "  Let  not 
your  heart  be  troubled  ;  you  believe  in  God,  believe 
also  in  me." 

Let  us  see  how  natural  it  is  for  an  unprejudiced 
mind  to  hold  a  simple,  abstract,  fruitless  faith  in  a 
mere  existence  of  Deity. 

Of  course,  if  one  believes  in  an  overruling  power, 
that  power  must  be  intelligent.  The  ultimate 
ground  and  cause  of  all  things,  too,  must  be  infi- 
nite and  eternal,  and  therefore  the  Creative  Spirit, 
which  is  the  object  of  faith,  must  be  an  infinite,  self- 
existent  Intelligence.  So  far  the  first  step  in  rea- 
goning  carries  us,  or  rather,  so  much  the  very  condi- 
tions of  reason  necessitate. 

Now  if  the  universe  be  the  work  of  an  Infinite 
Creative  Spirit,  whatever  characteristics  and  quali- 
ties are  found  clearly  impressed  upon  and  exhibited 
in  the  world,  must  be  supposed  to  exist  fully  and 
perfectly  as  attributes  and  characteristics  of  the 
Deity.  The  appearance  of  any  intelligent  trait  in 
the  structure  of  nature  is  the  hint  that  such  a  trait 
exists  in  perfection  as  a  feature  of  the  Creative 
Spirit.  We  discover  in  nature,  in  the  widest  and 
most  contracted  sphere,  numberless,  overwhelming 
traces  of  a  foresight  and  adaptation  fertile  in  re- 
sources, simple  in  plan ;  and  from  these  the  mind 
irresistibly  ascribes  to  the  Creator  a  wisdom  that  is 
perfect,  and  an  exquisite  skill.  We  see,  too,  that 
all  the  arrangements  of  this  natural  mechanism 
point  to  and  promise  good,  so  that,  when  they  are 


318  THE   IDEA    OF   GOD 

not  thwarted  by  wilfulness  and  vice,  happiness,  en- 
joyment will  prevail  in  the  world ;  and  of  course, 
since  the  natural  action  of  things  would  produce 
good  alone,  benevolence,  goodness,  must  be  a  dis- 
tinctive feature  of  the  creative  mind. 

Neither  can  our  conception  of  the  qualities  of 
the  Deity  stop  here.  The  principles  which  we  have 
laid  down  develop  further  results.  Looking  into 
the  intelligent  creation,  we  discover  a  law  of  duty 
which  reigns  supreme  over  the  souls  of  men ;  we 
find  in  every  breast  a  conscience  which  conveys  the 
warning  of  a  mysterious  power,  and  which  no  one 
can  with  impunity,  reject.  All  the  ranks  of  con- 
scious spirits  feel  naturally  the  despotic  claims  of 
truth,  holiness,  and  virtue,  as  a  myriad  of  needles 
point,  with  regular  convergence  and  tremulous  ac- 
curacy, to  a  common  pole.  Whence  is  the  origin  of - 
this  dread  law  ?  what  the  sanction  of  this  authori- 
tative principle  which  dignifies  the  most  ignorant 
and  the  meanest,  which  abases  the  most  powerful 
and  cultivated  of  our  race  ?  Our  religious  instincts 
answer  and  logic  confirms  the  reply :  Its  home  is 
the  nature  of  the  Deity  ;  its  sanction  is  the  char- 
acter and  pleasure  of  the  Most  High.  It  can  be 
nowhere  else.  As  skill  in  nature  proves  a  wise, 
designing  mind  ;  as  pleasure  points  to  goodness  in 
the  creative  Spirit,  so  the  instructive  voice  of  moral- 
ity and  conscience  in  the  human  heart  points  to  a 
nature  infinitely  holy,  a  God  all  pure. 

And  now  we  are  urged  another  step  onward  in 
the   path  we  have  taken.     When  we  reflect  that 


AND   THE   TRUTHS   OF   CHRISTIANITY.  319 

space  is  boundless  and  time  is  infinite,  and  when 
we  consider  that  science  reveals  no  limits  to  the 
physical  creation ,  but  shows  us  every  spot  of  nature 
which  the  eye  can  penetrate  and  all  the  regions 
which  telescopic  power  has  explored,  alive  with  the 
energy  of  forces  that  sustain  the  present  order  of 
the  universe  ;  and  since  from  what  we  know  of  our 
own  souls,  we  are  compelled  to  believe  that  spirit  is 
a  subtile,  impalpable,  formless  essence ;  reason  can 
rest  in  no  other  view  of  the  Deity  but  the  belief 
that  he  is  an  Omnipresent,"  all-pervading  principle 
of  life  and  order,  vivifying  and  encircling  the  world. 
He  is  not  only  the  Creator,  but  the  supporter  of  all 
things ;  "  in  him'  we  live  and  move  and  have  our 
being." 

If  a  man  believes  in  a  God,  if  his  recognition  of 
a  higher  power  be  not  merely  the  instinctive,  un- 
trained feeling  of  dependence  which  moves  alike 
the  savage  and  philosopher,  if  reason  clearly  con- 
ceives the  idea  of  God  as  an  item  of  faith,  it  must 
hold  it  in  some  form,  with  certain  definitions ;  and 
in  the  light  of  modern  thought  and  culture,  we  are 
obliged,  by  the  very  considerations  that  lead  us  to  a 
belief  in  a  Supreme  Being,  and  through  the  very 
process  which  establishes  it  as  a  certainty,  to  believe 
also  that  the  Deity  is  good,  wise,  and  holy,  and  that 
he  exercises  an  omnipresent  providence  over  the 
whole  creation.  If  we  do  not  believe  that  these 
qualities  form  part  of  the  Deity,  it  is  because  we  do 
not  reason  on  the  question  at  all,  it  is  because  we 
do  not  have  a  conviction,  but  only  a  dim  instinct 


320  THE  IDEA   OP  GOD 

that  there  is  a  God  ;  for  these  qualities  —  goodness, 
wisdom,  holiness,  omnipresence  —  necessarily  flow 
from,  or  rather  they  must  go  to  make  up,  the  idea 
of  God  which  the  mind  acquires.  And  these  are 
precisely  the  attributes  which  distinguish  Christian 
theology,  which  underlie  and  vivify  the  religion  of 
the  New  Testament.  So  far  the  deist  must  recog- 
nize the  same  elements  of  faith  with  the  Christian, 
and  to  this  extent  the  injunction  of  the  Saviour  is 
enforced,  —  "Ye  believe  in  God,  believe  also  in 
me." 

There  is  no  point  of  religion,  probably,  about 
which  there  is  more  concealed  or  practical  scepti- 
cism than  the  idea  of  immortality.  This  is  always 
supposed  to  be  a  distinctive  tenet  of  Christianity, 
and  to  be  so  connected  with  the  New  Testament 
theology  that  it  falls  to  the  ground  when  once  the 
gospel  is  denied.  And  yet  enlightened  faith  in  De- 
ity necessitates  this  point.  On  natural,  independent 
grounds,  the  idea  of  God  suggests  and  establishes 
the  belief  that  the  human  soul  has  a  higher  destiny 
than  is  attained,  or  than  can  be  attained  on  earth. 
If  we  attempt  to  interpret  life  in  the  full  blaze  of 
the  truth  that  it  is  ruled  by  a  wise,  holy,  omnipres- 
ent will,  we  are  impelled  to  the  hypothesis  that  the 
present  is  the  initiatory  stage  of  a  nobler  scene. 
No  man  who  has  an  adequate  conception  of  the 
Deity  can  disbelieve  his  immortality ;  and  the  wide- 
spread practical  scepticism  on  this  point  only  reveals 
the  fain tn ess  and  haziness  of  our  faith  in  a  Supreme 
Intelligence.  A  wise,  benevolent,  and  holy  governor 


AND   THE   TRUTHS   OF   CHRISTIANITY.  321 

must  have  a:  purpose  in  the  creation  of  intelligent 
and  moral  beings  ;  if  he  be  perfect  and  infinite, 
that  purpose  must  be  the  noblest  and  most  benevo- 
lent we  can  conceive,  whicli  is  spiritual  develop- 
ment, education,  progress.  Now  this  is  precisely 
what  man,  when  we  study  the  structure  and  laws 
of  his  nature,  seems  to  be  created  for ;  and  this 
goal  cannot  be  reached  in  the  present  life,  for  two 
reasons :  1st.  There  are  obstructions,  trials,  and 
mysteries  here  which  must  often  impede  our  prog- 
ress and  even  degrade  our  aims,  if  this  life  be  all 
our  destiny.  There  is  not  area  or  time  enough  for 
the  plan  of  spiritual  culture  to  vindicate  itself  in 
this  finite  state.  And,  2d.  Spiritual  excellence  is 
of  such  a  nature  that  the  more  one  acquires  the 
more  capacity  is  generated  to  acquire  ;  it  is  the  only 
work  in  which  the  soul  cannot  get  exhausted, 
and  where  the  field  widens  as  the  feet  press  on  ; 
attainments  expand  the  power  to  go  on  ;  "  it  is  a 
well  of  water  "  within  him,  and  therefore,  the  very 
statement — "  We  are  made  for  spiritual  excellence  " 
—  implies  and  includes  the  tenet  that  we  are  to  be 
immortal,  since  immortality  is  the  indispensable 
condition  of  reaching  the  goal  or  of  unfolding  the 
expansive  energies  enveloped  in  our  nature.  Inde- 
pendently then  of  the  Christian  revelation,  the  skill, 
holiness,  and  providence  of  God  —  all  the  qualities 
that  make  up  our  conception  of  the  Deity  —  are 
pledged  to  the  truth  of  our  eternal  being;  human 
immortality  is  a  necessary  sequence  from  such  prem- 
ises ;  if  such  be  not  our  destiny,  the  idea  of  God 
21 


322  THE   IDEA   OF  GOD 

which  all  other  departments  of  nature  suggest  to 
us,  is  overthrown  by  the  phenomena  of  the  intelli- 
gent universe ;  and  the  alternative  is  presented  to» 
accept  the  tenet  of  immortality  or  to  throw  away 
the  attributes  which  all  nature  ascribes  to  the  Most 
High. 

Thus  far,  we  have  spoken  only  of  the  abstract 
principles  of  theology.  We  see  that  mere  belief  in 
a  God,  under  the  light  of  modern  culture,  forces 
upon  the  mind  a  system  of  religion,  a  system  cor- 
responding to  the  essential  principles  of  Christian- 
ity, and  that  BO  man  can  say,  "  I  believe  in  a  great 
first  cause,  but  farther  than  that  I  cannot  go."  In 
believing'  that  he  must,  to  be  consistent,  go  a  great 
deal  farther.  He  must  believe  in  some  kind  of  a 
Divinity,  and  the  only  conception  of  the  Infinite 
which  reason  in  eur  time  is  able  to  approve,  ne- 
cessitates a  train  of  conclusions  parallel  with  the 
revealed  theology  of  the  gospel. 

And  not  only  does  the  idea  of  God  include  these 
speculative-  tenets  which  form  a  religious  creed,  but 
duties  grow  out  of  faith  in  a  supreme  intelligence. 
No  man  who  firmly  believes  in  a  Deity  can  excuse 
himself  from  cherishing  and  manifesting  a  class  of 
religious  emotions  or  sentiments  similar  to  those 
enjoined  and  educated  by  Christianity.  Is  not 
gratitude  a  natural  sentiment,  obligatory  in  appro- 
priate circumstances  upon  all  men  by  the  laws  of 
our  nature  ?  Nay,  do  we  not  brand  him  who  is 
habitually  and  coolly  faithless  in  this  respect,  as  un- 
worthy the  name  of  man  ?  What  claims  for  grati- 


AND   THE   TRUTHS   OF   CHRISTIANITY.  323 

tude  can  be  so  great  as  that  which  grows  out  of 
our  existence,  the  benevolent  laws  that  surround  us 
here,  and  the  countless  means  of  enjoyment  sup- 
plied so  liberally -at  every  hand  ?  Can  the  fact  that 
the  Giver  works  unseen  cancel  the  demand,  if  we 
firmly  believe  that  the  Giver  exists  ?  .  Is  not  rever- 
ence, too  —  the  blending  of  awe  and  love  —  an  in- 
stinctive affection  of  the  soul,  whenever  it  meets  01 
contemplates  a  union  in  some  man  of  the  highest 
mental  and  moral  qualities — justice,  purity,  mercy, 
and  wisdom  ?  And  shall  not  faith  in  a  Being  per- 
fectly pure,  holy,  and  wise,  of  whom  conscience  is  a 
feeble  representative  in  our  own  bosoms,  excite  and 
sustain  the  feeling  of  reverence  as  a  deep,  vivifying, 
consecrating  affection  of  the  heart  ? 

And  we  maintain  that  trust  too,  the  highest  of 
the  pie'tistic  sentiments,  is  a  natural  disposition  of ' 
the  soul,  and  is  aroused  and  sanctioned  by  a  worthy 
conception  of  a  God.  The  very  intellectual  percep- 
tion of  an  omnipresent  essence  of  skill,  holiness, 
and  love,  from  which  we  were  born  and  by  which 
we  are  upheld,  —  and  this  is  the  form  in  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  we  are  forced  to  conceive  the  Al- 
mighty,—  invites  the  heart  to  trust,  suggests  the 
propriety,  even  the  necessity  of  such  a  feeling ;  and 
where  the  proposition  is  believed  and  the  affection 
is  not  exhibited,  there  is  an  inconsistency  between 
the  mental  and  moral  life.  Thus  there  is  a  piety 
appropriate  to  natural  religion  growing  out  of,  and 
enforced  by,  the  idea  of  God.  If  a  person's  reason 
be  healthy,  and  be  applied  to  the  subject,  he  cannot 


324  THE  IDEA   OF  GOD 

escape  the  obligations  which  belief  in  a  Deity 
imposes  on  his  heart ;  and  the  theory  of  worship 
which  Christianity  enjoins  —  humility,  reverence, 
love,  and  prayer  —  is  equally  approved  by  a  scientific 
faith  in  a  Supreme  Intelligence. 

There  are  other  considerations,  also,  flowing  from 
a  sufficient  and  exhaustive  idea  of  God,  which  are 
fatal  to  a  barren  deism,  and  which  invite  the  mind 
to  confidence  in  Christianity.  The  qualities  which 
study  of  the  universe  leads  us  to  ascribe  to  the 
Almighty,  naturally  suggests  the  probability  of  a 
clearer  moral  revelation  of  himself.  Can  we  con- 
ceive it  possible  that  a  Being  perfectly  wise  and 
good,  will  refuse  to  communicate  with  his  creatures, 
or  can  refrain  from  such  a  communion  ?  It  is  the 
tendency  of  complete  goodness  and  wisdom  to  pub- 
'  lish,  to  manifest  itself  as  widely  and  clearly  as  pos- 
sible. No  person,  even  though  he  be  indifferent  in 
practice  to  the  truths  of  religion,  will  deny  that 
the  knowledge  of  a  benevolent,  infinite  protector 
would  be  one  of  the  greatest  blessings  for  humanity. 
How  then,  if  his  mind  believes  in  a  wise  and  merci- 
ful divinity,  can  he,  on  natural  grounds,  resist  the 
probability  that  he  would,  or  has,  declared  his 
character  and  the  more  secret  counsels  of  his  provi- 
dence to  his  children  ?  To  believe  that  revelation 
would  be  a  most  valuable  blessing,  and  to  believe  in 
a  perfectly  wise  and  merciful  Deity  who  has  not  re- 
vealed himself,  is  practically  to  say  that  our  own 
minds  can  conceive  a  good  which  we  do  not  believe 
Infinite  benevolence  is  prompted  to  bestow.  The 


AND   THE  TRUTHS   OF  CHRISTIANITY.  325 

tendency  to  reveal  himself  seems,  therefore,  to  be 
part  of  the  conception  of  a  perfect  Deity.  The 
mind,  too,  feels  deeply  the  need  of  revelation.  It 
needs  it  to  enlighten  conscience,  to  educate  piety, 
to  inspire  strength,  assurance,  and  serenity  in  afflic- 
tion, adversity,  and  gloom.  Now  the  wisdom  of 
the  Creator  has  been  so  provident  and  watchful, 
that  not  a  single  native,  healthy  want  of  our  struct- 
ure, bodily,  mental,  or  affectional,  has  been  left  un- 
supplied.  We  feel  hunger  and  there  is  food ;  thirst, 
and  there  is  drink ;  taste,  and  there  is  beauty ;  de- 
sire for  knowledge,  and  there  is  truth  ;  sympathies, 
and  there  is  society ;  love,  and  there  are  objects  for 
love.  This  wide-spread,  exquisite  adaptation,  never 
failing  in  any  instance  of  deep  native  need,  indi- 
cates the  truth  that  the  Governor  of  nature  is  per- 
fectly wise  and  good.  How  then,  with  the  whole 
mechanism  of  the  universe  to  support  and  urge  the 
argument,  in  the  light  of  such  continual  divine  in- 
terference for  our  benefit,  can  the  deist  resist  the 
conclusion  that  perfect  wisdom  has  considered  this 
abiding  moral  want  of  the  soul,  and  has  answered 
it,  as  it  only  can  be  answered,  by  an  authoritative 
voice,  conveyed  through  some  agent  to  the  waiting 
world  ?  Can  reason  believe  that  God  would  create 
intelligent  creatures  for  development  and  spiritual 
excellence,  —  as  he  evidently  has  done,  —  and  then 
leave  them  destitute  of  the  highest  means  of  educa- 
tion, means  which  only  could  be  supplied  by  a  dis- 
closure of  his  nature  to  meet  and  satisfy,  and  to 
inspire  and  quicken  them  ?  This  is  equally  incon- 


326 


sistent  with  divine  skill  and  divine  benevolence,  and, 
as  at  other  points  we  saw  that  the  idea  of  God  sug- 
gested doctrines  analogous  to  those  of  revelation,  so 
on  this  point  we  find  that  the  idea  of  God  prompts 
the  expectancy  of  revelation  itself.  Therefore,  since 
on  every  hand  the  tenets  of  natural  religion  and 
Christianity  harmonize,  and  confirm  each  other, 
fresh  meaning  breaks  from  the  Saviour's  language, 
and  we  feel  from  another  side  the  force  of  the  prin- 
ciple— "  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled;  you  be- 
lieve in  God,  believe  also  in  me." 

It  seems  to  us,  also,  that  the  obstacles  which  in 
our  time  often  lie  in  the  way  of  a  grounded  and 
secure  faith  in  Christianity,  will  easily  be  removed 
by  a  clear  and  adequate  conception  of  the  Deity. 
Many  persons,  whose  minds  assent  to  the  native 
probability  of  a  revelation,  and  who  are  attracted  to 
the  doctrines  and  spirit  of  the  gospel,  feel  repelled 
by  the  miraculous  agency  connected  with  it,  and 
cannot  reconcile  their  intellects  to  the  occurrence 
of  such  violations  of  natural  law.  Tliey  confess  the 
propriety  and  spiritual  beauty  of  the  Christian  mir- 
acles, allow  that  they  are  worthy  of  God,  and  if 
once  confirmed,  furnish  solid  and  consoling  evidence 
of  the  gospel's  authoritative  character,  but  they  are 
unable  to  conceive  how  they  were  possible,  being 
contrary  to  the  custom  of  the  universe.  Now  a 
pure  and  firmly-grasped  conception  of  a  God  does 
away  this  reluctance,  by.  dissipating  the  prejudice  on 
which  it  rests.  When  we  realize  that  God  must  be 
omnipresent,  the  sustaining  power  of  the  world,  and 


AND   THE   TRUTHS   OF   CHRISTIANITY.  327 

immediate  cause  of  every  event,  as  the  soul  sustains 
the  body  and  directs  its  motion,  we  see  that  nature 
is  only  the  manifestation  of  the  successive  volitions 
of  a  hidden  spirit  in  its  frame,  we  discover  that 
there  are  no  laws  of  matter  established  for  inde- 
pendent action,  and  thus  are  led  to  perceive  that  a 
seeming  miracle  is  as  natural  and  credible  as  any 
other  occurrence,  if  the  Creator  but  pleases  that  it 
should  be  wrought.  Nothing  is  more  needed  to  in- 
spire a  correct  understanding  of  the  kind  of  uni- 
verse we  live  in,  than  a  constant  recognition  that 
God  is  omnipresent  in  it,  as  the  source  of  life  and 
action.  All  mechanical  theories  fade  before  this 
view,  and  miracles,  which  to  thousands  are  the  only 
stumbling-blocks  in  the  path  of  Christian  faith, 
seem  in  themselves  no  more  marvellous  than  the 
rising  of  the  sun,  or  bodily  death.  And  thus,  if  we 
can  perceive  the  fitness,  force,  and  need  of  the  won- 
derful agencies  recorded  in  the  gospel,  as  proofs  in 
a  sensual  age  of  the  divine  mission  of  Jesus,  all 
natural  objection  to  them,  all  prejudice  against 
them,  is  dissipated  by  the  spiritual  view  under 
which  God  must  be  recognized  as  the  sole  source 
of  power. 

We  have  endeavored  thus  to  intimate  the  vital 
connection  between  a  firm  belief  in  God  and  the 
truths  of  the  Christian  religion.  The  idea  of  a  su- 
preme intelligence  naturally  expands  into  the  prin- 
cipal tenets  of  theology,  while  it  leads  us  to  antici- 
pate a  clearer  revelation,  indorses  the  doctrines  of 


328  THE  IDEA   OF  GOD 

the  gospel  and  dispels  the  only   antecedent  hin- 
drances to  its  acceptance  by  the  mind. 

It  is  not  very  marvellous  that  there  should  be 
sceptical  tendencies  generated  from  the  feverish  ma- 
terialism of  modern  life.  Opportunities  for  special 
culture  or  religious  meditation  are  either  too  rare, 
or  are  too  steadily  slighted,  to  allow  the  purity, 
grandeur,  and  harmony  of  the  gospel  to  attract, 
vivify,  and  uplift  the  heart  into  an  appreciation  of  its 
symmetrical,  inspiring  truth.  From  all  the  sources 
of  evidence  which  spring  up  in  a  serene  and  mellow 
heart,  —  the  very  highest  and  most  satisfactory  of 
all  proofs  of  its  divinity,  —  by  the  fretful,  seething 
sensualism  of  modern  life  we  have  been  almost  en- 
tirely debarred.  Amid  the  roar  of  the  machinery 
of  our  artificial,  unhealthy,  contentious  existence, 
the  charming  influence  of  Christianity  which  falls 
upon  the  ear  in  gentle  tones  and  invitations,  sweet 
as  the  voice  of  birds  or  the  melodies  of  reviving 
nature,  can  hardly,  by  any  possible  means,  be  felt. 
To  acquire  the  saintly  assurance  —  the  point  where 
belief  rises  into  insight  —  we  must  reach  the  saintly 
excellence,  the  rest  and  calm  of  more  natural  and 
simple  experience.  Hence  the  greater  necessity  of 
maintaining  firm  the  bulwark  against  scepticism  on 
the  side  of  thought.  If  faith  may  not  yet  be  estab- 
lished beyond  the  possibility  of  question,  by  means 
of  sentiments  Christianized  and  refined,  it  is  a  more 
binding  duty  to  take  care,  that  unbelief  makes  no 
irruptions  into  the  enclosure  of  the  intellect,  and 
that  we  preserve  the  reason  untainted  by  a  doubt. 


AND    THE   TRUTHS    OP   CHRISTIANITY.  329 

This  may  easily  be  done.  We  may  be  Christian 
philosophers  if  we  may  not,  because  of  the  poverty 
of  our  hearts,  attain  the  Christ-like  conviction  which 
only  rewards  a  consecrated  life.  And  so  long  as  a 
man  holds  to  and  confesses  faith  in  God  it  can  only 
be  weakness  of  logic  or  intellectual  disease  that  can 
excuse  any  insecurity  or  hesitation  with  regard  to 
the  primary  principles  of  Jesus'  theology.  Atheism 
is  more  consistent  than  a  cold,  unchristian,  naked 
deism.  Let  any  man  who  has  any  tendency  to  scep- 
ticism upon  the  great  themes  of  human  interest,  and 
who  would  discipline  his  mind  to  repel  its  ingress 
and  refute  its  force,  fall  back  upon  the  idea  of 
God ;  let  him  reflect  upon  all  that  is  implied  in  that 
belief,  and  he  shall  find  that  it  is  the  basis  and  but- 
tress of  a  vast  system  of  theology  which  enlightens 
the  mysteries  of  the  world,  hallows  the  most  soaring 
hopes,  and  imposes  the  most  solemn  obligations  on 
the  heart  and  will.  Though  we  slight  the  historical 
claims  of  Christianity  to  our  regard,  it  has  still  an 
ally  in  reason  and  the  teachings  of  nature,  which 
we  cannot  silence  by  contemptuous  unconcern. 
With  calm  assurance  the  gospel  addresses  the  intel- 
lect of  the  world  in  the  language,  "  You  believe  in 
God :  believe  also  in  me."  Its  logical  foundations 
are  secure  so  long  as  faith  in  an  overruling  power 
shall  endure,  and  that  can  only  fail  when  the  struct- 
ure of  the  human  reason  shall  be  radically  changed. 


xy. 

HARMONY  OF  OPPOSITE  QUALITIES  IN  THE 
SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS. 


THERE  are  great  differences  among  men,  in  respect 
of  comprehensiveness  of  character.  We  often  see 
a  person  who  appears  to  be  the  embodiment  of  one 
thought  or  one  passion.  So  narrow  and  intense  is 
his  life  that  you  can  readily  tell  what  he  will  do, 
and  almost  prophesy  what  he  will  say,  in  any  cir- 
cumstances, even  in  a  peculiar  emergency.  There 
is  only  one  side  to  his  soul ;  it  can  show  but  one 
phase,  and  take  but  one  attitude ;  and  any  fair 
description  of  him  will  seem  to  be  a  caricature.  One 
person  of  this  class  may  be  ruled  by  the  passion  for 
money  getting,  and  never  can  be  betrayed  into 
momentary  generosity  of  hand  or  lip ;  another  is 
incarnate  pride ;  another  is  concentrated  foppish- 
ness ;  another  is  organized  gossip ;  another  is  the 
slave  of  some  special  study  or  profession. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  some  persons 
whose  characteristic  quality  it  would  be  hard  to  tell. 
They  are  many-sided  men.  Their  resources  are 
rich  and  deep ;  they  have  great  practical  wisdom ; 
and  when  they  pronounce  a  judgment,  it  is  from 

830 


THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS.   331 

thorough  insight,  and  when  they  act,  they  do  not 
reveal  any  chronic  peculiarity,  but  suit  their  action 
to  the  circumstances  which  called  it  forth.  All  great 
genius,  such  as  Shakspeare's  and  Homer's,  has  this 
many-sidedness.  The  best  judges  can  never  agree 
whether  they  excel  in  pathos  or  humor  or  sublim- 
ity or  description ;  nor  can  they  determine  what 
kind  of  characters  they  draw  most  powerfully.  It 
would  give  any  man  fame  if  he  could  excel  in  any 
one  line  of  literary  excellence  as  they  easily  excel 
in  all. 

The  greatest  practical  men,  such  as  Csesar  and 
"Washington,  are  equally  comprehensive.  Who  can 
tell  the  distinguishing  trait  of  Washington's  charac- 
ter ?  His  virtue  is  the  poise  of  many  qualities ;  he  turns 
a  new  phase  as  we  view  him  from  different  points ; 
and  all  we  can  say  is,  that  many  moral  elements,  by 
their  marriage,  make  up  the  pure  patriot,  the  wise 
statesman,  the  courageous,  humane,  disinterested 
and  unstained  soldier. 

And,  in  the  Saviour's  nature  we  discover  a  most 
wonderful  breadth  and  complexity.  The  narratives 
of  his  life  embrace  but  a  small  portion  of  his  deeds 
and  conversations ;  but  they  show  plainly  that  all 
forms  and  phases  of  virtue  blended  in  his  character. 
Indeed,  the  richness  of  his  nature  shows  itself  in 
seemingly  opposite  qualities,  jarring  opinions,  and 
discordant  acts ;  so  that,  if  many  of  Jesus'  sayings, 
deeds,  and  characteristics  should  be  put  abstractedly 
before  us,  we  should  be  apt  to  say  that  they  could 
not  be  harmoniously  united,  so  as  to  compose  a  sim- 


332   THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS. 

pie  and  symmetrical  life.  And  yet  this  union  shows 
the  fulness  and  power  of  the  Saviour's  nature.  In 
his  short  career  he  swept  the  whole  orbit  of  duty, 
and  shed  light  along  every  segment  of  its  curve. 

In  the  first  place,  we  may  notice  the  two-sidedness 
of  which  we  speak,  if  we  study  the  relations  of 
Christ  with  respect  to  formalism  and  spiritualism. 
The  New  Testament  teaches  us  that  piety  is  a  spirit, 
is  of  the  heart,  that  it  must  not  be  confounded  with 
formal  rites  of  devotion,  that  "  the  true  worshippers 
worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth"  Ultra 
spiritualists,  antagonists  of  all  forms,  anti-sabbath 
men,  come-outers,  all  shelter  themselves  behind  the 
words  and  examples  of  Jesus.  And  to  this  extent 
—  that  a  mere  form  of  devotion  is  not  necessarily 
worship,  and  that  a  person  can  possibly  be  pious 
without  joining  in  the  consecrated  and  customary 
rites  by  which  men  seek  to  foster  and  express  their 
piety  —  the  language  and  spirit  of  Jesus  will  per- 
mit any  one  to  go.  But  these  protests  against  the 
excesses  of  formalism  do  not  fully  portray  the 
Saviour's  position.  They  give  us  only  half  the  truth. 
The  Saviour's  example,  when  we  see  the  whole  of  it, 
is  against  these  ultraists.  We  find  that  he  was 
baptized,  that  he  had  such  respect  for  the  solemnity 
and  propriety  of  that  rite  as  to  insist  on  receiving 
it  from  an  humbler  hand.  He  observed  the  ritual 
of  the  passover,  and  engrafted  upon  it  another  form 
which  he  perpetuated  by  an  affectionate  command 
among  his  first  followers.  And  notwithstanding 
his  insight  into  the  spirituality  of  devotion,  it  is 


THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS.    333 

written  that,  "  as  his  custom  was,  he  went  into  the 
synagogue  on  the  Sabbath-day."  Superior  as  he  was 
to  any  preacher  he  could  hear,  we  must  believe  that 
the  chants  and  psalms  and  spirit  of  the  place  were 
delightful,  beneficial,  and  almost  necessary  to  his 
nature. 

So,  too,  Jesus  taught  that  it  is  the  inward  light 
which  illumines  us,  and  that  he  who  believeth  "  hath 
the  witness  in  himself."  Yet  he  frequently  appealed  l 
to  his  miracles  as  convincing  and  authoritative  proofs 
of  his  Messiahship,  and  bowed  with  deep  reverence 
before  the  written  Scripture ;  for  he  supported  -his 
own  threatened  virtue,  and  silenced  Satan,  with  "  It 
is  written,  thou  shall  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God." 

Christ,  too,  went  through  cornfields  on  the  Sabbath 
day,  and  took  occasion  to  perform  many  merciful 
miracles  on  that  day,  when  he  knew  that  the  sensibili- 
ties of  the  ritual  Jews  would  be  shocked  by  his  free- 
dom. See,  therefore,  it  is  said,  how  Jesus  walked 
rough-shod  over  the  superstitions  of  his  age  ;  and 
a  class  of  men  now  find  warrant  in  this  phase  of  his 
ministry  for  the  most  rabid  hostility  to  Sunday-laws, 
and  the  most  freely-uttered  contempt  for  the  notion 
that  one  day  should  be  accounted  more  sacred  than 
another.  But  look  at  the  reverse  side  of  the  picture. 
Christ  was  a  formalist.  As  if  with  the  intention  to 
balance  his  character  upon  this  point,  his  biographers 
have  recorded  his  driving  the  money-changers  out 
of  the  court  of  the  temple.  Gentiles,  we  know, 
were  permitted  to  worship  in  the  outer  court  of  the 
temple,  and  the  Jews  had  no  objection  to  the  traders 


334  THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS. 

occupying  those  spaces,  and  selling  articles  that  were 
required  for  offerings  or  incense.  But  Jesus  saw 
that  the  place  where  Gentiles  or  partial  proselytes 
regularly  worshipped  was  a  holy  place,  and  he  could 
not  bear  that  it  should  be  polluted  by  any  secular 
uses ;  and  he  banished  the  brokers  with  the  rebuke, 
"  Make  not  my  Father's  house  a  house  of  merchan- 
dise." 

*  There  is  a  great  difference  between  spiritualism 
and  anti-formalism.  Jesus  was  a  spiritualist,  and 
because  he  was  a  wise  and  thorough  spiritualist  he 
wa»,  of  necessity,  a  wise  and  strenuous  formalist. 
Whoever  sees  that  religion  is  a  vital  and  glowing 
principle  or  spirit  will  see  clearly  the  use  and  power 
and  indispensableness  of  forms ;  for  wherever  in 
nature  or  society  a  vital  principle,  a  quickening 
spirit  appears,  it  clothes  itself  instantly  with,  and 
manifests  itself  through,  a  form.  God's  wisdom  is 
announced  to  human  senses  through  forms,  and  a 
fixed  and  stable  ceremonial. 

The  sky  enfolds  a  magnificent  revelation  of  arrested 
order  and  materialized  geometry.  That  old  celestial 
institution  stands  ;  our  souls  are  educated  by  it ;  and 
the  Almighty  is  not  too  spiritual  to  suffer  his  thought 
and  feeling  to  take  substance,  and  be  bound  to  the 
observance  of  despotic  rules.  For  ages,  in  the  great 
cathedral  of  the  universe,  roofed  with  hazy  firma- 
ments, and  lighted  with  brilliant  constellations, 
planets  have  swung  before  him  like  censers  of  incense, 
and  worship  is  offered  before  him  in  the  obedient 
sweep,  and  constant  harmony  of  suns,  satellites,  and 


THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS.   335 

systems.  Every  flower,  too,  is  a,  form  of  God's  art, 
a  tiny  ritual  of  beauty,  conducted  by  stem  and 
leaves  and  petals  and  hues.  And  all  the  great 
institutions  of  the  world, —  the  senate,  the  throne, 
the  court,  the  asylum,  the  school,  —  and  every  poem, 
and  every  painting  and  statue  and  treatise  and 
machine,  are  forms  of  human  thought,  justice,  art, 
and  love.  Paul  has  said,  "  There  is  one  spirit  and 
one  body"  and  wherever  there  is  a  spirit  there  will 
be  a  fitting  body.  A  body  without  the  spirit  is  dead  ; 
and  a  spirit  without  a  body,  a  form,  is  a  ghost,  and 
cannot  live  in  the  busy  daylight  of  the  world. 
"Wherever  a  person  is  found  so  spiritual  as  to  de- 
spise all  forms  and  never  to  use  any,  it  is  a  pretty 
sure  sign  that  his  spiritualism  is  ghostly,  ghastly, 
and  nebulous ;  not  too  pure  to  pollute  itself  by  a 
ritual,  but  too  shadowy  to  be  able  to  find  a  body,  too 
feeble  to  condense  itself  into  fact. 

Christ  saw  that  the  forms  of  worship  were  a 
mockery,  if  a  living  spirit  in  the  heart  did  not  fill 
them  with  meaning,  and  therefore  he  revealed  and 
attacked  the  mockery.  And  he  saw,  too,  that  a  liv- 
ing spirit  of  devotion  in  the  heart  needs,  and  must 
find,  some  form  of  revealing  itself,  and  some  forms 
that  will  educate  it  when  it  flags,  and  therefore  he 
used,  recommended,  and  established  forms.  He 
saw  that  his  religion  required  a  new  and  different 
ceremonial,  as  the  planted  acorn  unfolds  into  a  dif- 
ferent form  from  that  which  a  planted  plum  assumes. 
And  so  he  said,  No  man  putteth  new  wine  into  old 
bottles,  lest  the  bottles  burst  and  the  wine  be  spilled ; 


33G  THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS. 

but  new  wine  must  be  put  into  new  bottles.  That 
is,  we  must  have  the  bottles  —  or  the  forms  —  that 
we  may  save  the  wine,  or  the  spirit. 

With  respect  to  the  question  of  conservatism  and 
reform,  and  the  relative  value  of  the  past  and  the 
present,  ,we  notice  a  similar  two-sidedness.  How 
radical  his  thoughts  and  speech  in  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  when  he  says,  "  Ye  have  heard  that  it 
hath  been  said  by  them  of  old  time  ...  an  eye  for 
an  eye,  .  .  .  but  I  say  unto  you  that  yo  resist  not 
evil ;  "  thus  announcing  the  principle  of  progress  in 
revelation,  introducing  a  deeper  and  more  searching 
spiritual  law  in  the  place  of  the  Mosaic  morality. 
Yet,  at  another  time,  we  hear  him  saying,  "  Think 
not  that  I  am  come  to  destroy  the  law  or  the  proph- 
ets ;  I  am  not  come  to  destroy  but  to  fulfil." 
"  Not  one  jot  or  tittle  shall  pass  from  the  law  till  all 
be  fulfilled."  How  can  these  things  be  reconciled  ? 
How  can  one  mind  stand  in  these  two  attitudes  ? 
The  reason  is,  that  Jesus'  mind  reposed  at  the  cen- 
tre of  truth  where  conservatism  and  radicalism  run 
together,  and  are  reconciled.  He  was  a  wise  con- 
servative, because  he  was  a  wise  reformer.  He  read 
the  law  by  which  truth  expands  in  the  world, — 
that  it  spreads,  not  by  conquest,  but  by  develop- 
ment. 

God  never  snaps  and  hacks  away  the  live  cords 
and  arteries  of  society,  never  creates  a  wholly  new 
moral  world  in  which  truth  shall  find  institutions 
perfectly  adapted  to  it ;  but  ordains  that  truth  shall 
swell  and  develop  gradually  and  easily  from  one 


THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS.   337 

'  set  of  institutions  to  another,  so  that  society  shall 
bo  jarred  as  little  as  possible.  The  Saviour  saw 
that  there  is  an  organic  life  in  the  race,  flowing 
down  from  Adam  through  history  into  every  man  ; 
he  saw  that  the  conquests  of  truth  were  like  the > 
growth  of  a  tree,  and  that  there  must  be  new 
boughs,  and  leaves,  and  twigs,  and  wider  circles 
forming  in  the  trunk,  —  in  a  word,  that  the  tree 
must  change,  season  by  season,  and  become  differ- 
ent, because  it  is  the  same  living  tree.  In  accord- 
ance with  this  principle,  he  put  away  Judaism  by 
ripening  it,  by  quickening  the  germ  of  truth  that 
lay  in  it,  so  that  its  imperfect  form  might  be  thrown 
off,  and. a  perfect  one  bo  gained.  All  Judaism  was 
in  Christianity,  as  the  life  of  the  caterpillar  is  in 
the  butterfly  ;  its  coarse  skin  was  shed,  and  it  was 
taken  up  into  a  new  and  winged  life.  Christ's 
truth  was  inconsistent  with  Moses'  teaching  and 
destroyed  it,  just  as  the  apple  destroys  the  apple- 
blossom,  and  as  the  sunrise  destroys  the  morning 
twilight.  It  was  a  destruction  in  which  Moses' 
system  was  more  honored  than  if  it  had  been  let 
alone ;  for  if  it  had  been  let  alone  it  would  have 
died  ;  but  in  Christ's  thought  it  found  its  resurrec- 
tion into  a  celestial  body,  and  put  on  immortality 
in  a  glorious  and  perfect  form. 

We  know  how  sharp  is  the  dispute  at  the  present 
day  between  the  partisans  of  natural  religion  and 
of  revealed  religion,-^  the  naturalists  and  the  su- 
pernaturalists.  One  party  contends  that  the  teach- 
ings of  nature  and  the  intimations  of  the  soul  are 

22 


338   THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS. 

sufficient  to  instruct  us  in  the  truths  of  religion,  of 
our  duty  and  destiny.  The  other  party  contends 
that  nature  and  the  soul  give  us  very  little  light, 
and  that  we  owe  all  our  stable  knowledge,  all  our 
possible  peace  of  mind  and  heart,  and  all  redeeming 
influences,  to  a  supernatural  grace,  granted  in  a 
special  communication  of  truth,  which  we  call 
Christianity.  But,  strangely  enough,  both  these 
parties  appeal  to  Christ ;  each  maintains  that  it 
alone  conceives  his  history  most  accurately,  and  in- 
terprets him  most  fairly.  And  certainly,  if  we  look 
through  the  Gospels,  we  shall  see  that  Jesus  hon- 
ored nature,  and  trusted  deeply  in  the  affections 
and  instincts  of  the  soul.  He  tried  to  lead  his  dis- 
ciples to  deeper  sympathy  with  nature  ;  he  enforced 
many  of  his  distinctive  and  most  important  doctrines 
by  the  testimony  of  naturo  ;  he  evidently  had  the 
keenest  sympathy  with  the  material  universe,  and 
delighted  to  interpret  the  special  meaning  it  en- 
closed. He  also  said,  "  the  pure  in  heart  see  God." 
He  made  the  human  affections  the  interpreters  of 
God's  love,  and  the  parental  relation  suggest  the 
nature  of  the  Divine  Paternity,  and  showed  that 
love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law. 

Christ  was  a  naturalist,  the  priest  and  apostle  of 
natural  religion.  And  yet  he  affirmed  revelation, 
the  absolute  necessity  of  supernatural  instruction 
and  aid.  He  said,  "  Without  me  ye  can  do  nothing." 
"  1  am  the  way,"  "I  am  the  vine,"  "I  am  the 
door,"  "  I  am  the  bread  of  life  ; "  "  no  man  cometh 
to  the  Father  but  by  me."  These  apparent  contra- 


THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS.   339 

dictions  are  both  true.  Christ  was  the  supernatural 
interpreter  of  nature.  What  he  read  in  nature,  he 
read  by  reason  of  his  extraordinary  faculties.  It 
was  one  of  his  offices,  as  a  supernatural  and  miracu- 
lous teacher,  to  tell  us  what  nature  means,  and  pour 
light  upon  us  from  that  quarter.  It  was  one  promi- 
nent office  of  'revelation  to  restate  and  reinforce 
simple  truths,  —  what  seem  to  be  the  simplest  of  all 
truths.  Thus  we  owe  what  we  call  the.  teachings  of 
nature  and  the  human  heart,  to  Christ,  as  much  as 
we  owe  the  teaching  of  the  resurrection  and  the 
confirmation  of  immortality,  to  Christ.  And  we  owe 
other  blessings,  besides  these  interpretations  of  na- 
ture, to  Jesus,  —  influences  and  attractions  to  good- 
ness, declarations  of  God's  pardoning  mercy,  and 
his  own  spotless  character,  which  lift  the  race  out  of 
bondage  to  evil,  and  are  the  redeeming  influences 
of  society;  and  these,  so  great  is  our  indebtedness 
to  them,  more  than  justify  the'  other  class  of  pas- 
sages, that  declare  his  supernatural  relations  to  the 
soul.  We  have  only  to  look  deep,  enough,  and  we 
see  these  surface  contradictions  reconciled,  and  dis- 
cover that  they  bear  testimony  to  the  breadth  and 
comprehensiveness  of  the  Saviour's  thought  and 
mission. 

Again,  we  find  both  sides  of  the  perplexing  con- 
troversy about  foreordination  and  free-will,  God's 
sovereignty  and  man's  moral  freedom,  recognized  by 
the  Saviour.  The  fatalists  and  their  opponents  can 
both  appeal  to  him.  He  was  continually  striving  to 
impress  men  with  a  sense  of  their  sinfulness,  and 


340   THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS. 

presenting  motives  to  make  them  seek  a  nobler  life ; 
thus  assuming  man's  freedom  and  responsibility. 
And  yet  he  said,  "Not  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the 
ground  without  your  Father ; "  "  the  very  hairs  of 
your  head  are  all  numbered  ; "  "no  man  can  come 
unto  me,  except  the  Father  which  hath  sent  me 
draw  him."  Jesus  never  attempted  to  reconcile 
these  seeming  contradictions,  and  it  is  a  revelation 
of  his  greatness  and  wisdom  that  he  did  not.  For 
no  human  intellect  can  bring  them  together  and 
marry  them.  To  our  minds  they  seem  hostile 
truths,  but  both  are  truths.  They  blend  somehow 
to  the  eye  of  God,  as  the  centripetal  and  centrifugal 
forces  of  nature  blend ;  but  the  process  we  cannot 
fathom.  So  long  as  man  has  a  conscience,  he  will 
feel  his  spiritual  responsibility,  will  know  that  he  is 
free,  and  in  his  highest  moods  will  say,  "  Lord,  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner ! "  So  long  as  ho  has 
an  intellect,  he  will  see  that  God  "  ruleth  in  the 
armies  of  heaven  and  among  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth  ;  "  and  so  long  as  he  has  a  heart,  he  will  trust 
in  Providence,  feeling  that  it  is  wiser  than  our  rea- 
son, and  in  seasons  of  sorrow  will  say,  "  Father, 
thou  dost  appoint  our  discipline  ;  we  have  faith  that 
thou  doest  all  things  in  mercy  and  love  ;  and  that 
goodness  and  order  will  one  day  triumph  in  thy 
realm." 

With  respect  to  the  value  of  good  emotions  and 
good  works,  we  find  the  same  two-sidedness. 
Throughout  the  gospel  of  John,  religion  is  recog- 
nized, chiefly,  as  indwelling  spiritual  life,  a  sense  of 


THE  SAVIOUK'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS.   34t 

union  with  God,  a  feeling  that  naturally  expresses 
itself  in  prayer,  meditation,  inward  discipline,  and 
retired"  exercises  of  mystical  pietism.  But  Christ 
had  no  sympathy  with  a  weak,  pale,  sickly,  hot- 
house piety.  He  wanted  it-to-be  robust  and  prac- 
tical. He  insisted  that  it  should  bo  rich  in  outward 
fruits  of  beneficence  and  moral  faithfulness.  The 
parable  of  the  talents  tells  us  this  ;  and  in  his  terri- 
ble picture  of  coming  to  judge  the  world,  the  accept- 
ed are  those  who  have  done  something,  even  trivial 
acts  of  mercy  in  his  name.  His  mind  held  both 
facts,  saw  their  equal  necessity,  and  was  able  to 
poise  them.  In  his  own  experience  he  blended  per- 
fectly the  active  and  the  mystic  virtues.  "  Behold 
a  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners,"  said  his  foes ; 
while  Matthew  tells  us  that,  "  when  he  had  sent  the 
multitudes  away,  he  retired  into  the  mountain 
apart,  to  pray,  and  when  the  evening  was  come,  he 
was  there  alone." 

At  times,  also,  we  find  the  Saviour  recognizing 
the  law  of  expediency,  and  extricating  himself  from 
dilemmas  by  the  exercise  of  a  keen  prudence  and 
sagacity.  What  a  fine  worldly  wisdom  is  revealed 
in  his  reply  to  the  Pharisees,  when  they  asked  him 
if  it  was  lawful  to  pay  tribute  to  Caesar !  How  skil- 
fully he  confounded  the  crafty  malice  of  his  foss, 
and  taught  them  a  religious  lesson,  too,  by  his  eva- 
sion of  the  point  where  they  hoped  to  entrap  him  ! 
And  he  who  accepted  calmly  the  lot  of  crucifixion, 
and  refused  to  call  angels  to  his  aid,  often  requested 
those  whom  he  healed  to  refrain  from  telling  tho 


342   THE  SAVIOUE'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS. 

priests  and  elders ;,  and  when  John  the  Baptist  was 
beheaded,  consulted  his  personal  safety  by  leaving 
Judea,  and  dwelling  in  Galilee.  What  gentleness 
and  meekness  of  spirit  distinguished  him  in  his  in- 
tercourse with  the  world  ;  what  warm  sympathy 
with  the  penitent ;  what  tenderness  towards  the 
guilty  ;  what  forgiving  love  to  his  most  cruel  foes  ! 
Yet  it  was  he  of  whom  it  is  written  that,  "  when  he 
was  reviled  he  reviled  not  again,"  who  showed  by 
the  most  scathing  denunciation,  which  the  literature 
of  rebuke  cannot  surpass,  the  rottenness  of  heart 
in  the  Pharisees,  and  called  them  hypocrites  and 
vipers  and  whited  sepulchres. 

We  can  readily  see,  moreover,  that  dignity  and 
grandeur  of  presence  were  united  strangely  in  his 
character  with  familiarity,  ease,  and  condescension. 
He  "  came  eating  and  drinking ;  "  he  was  the  friend 
of  publicans  and  sinners ;  he  passed  most  of  his 
life  in  constant  and  social  contact  with  the  vile  and 
the  outcasts  ;  yet  the  record  always  implies  that  his 
companions  were  awed  by  his  very  mercy ;  and  he 
lost  nothing  of  that  personal  sway  and  imposing 
mien  which  commanded  the  veneration  of  Nicode- 
mus  and  the  ruler  Simon,  and  overawed  the  soldiers 
who  came  to  lead  him  to  his  death.  So,  too,  we 
find  in  Jesus  great  calmness  and  great  enthusiasm ; 
an  enthusiasm  that  manifested  itself  in  intense 
calmness,  as  the  spinning-top  whirls  swifter  when  it 
is  motionless  and  sleeps.  "  He  was  a  man  of  sor- 
rows and  acquainted  with  grief;"  "he  was  made 
perfect  through  suffering ;  "  yet  he  speaks  of  his  joy 


THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS.   343 

being  full ;  and  truly  we  may  believe  that,  under  all 
the  hardships  of  his  discipline,  his  breast  was  open 
to  currents  of  bliss,  which  the  prosperous  worldling 
cannot  conceive.  He  had  friends,  and  yet  was 
alone ;  he  loved  the  world,  and  yet  he  overcame  the 
world ;  he  was  the  opposite  of  an  ascetic,  and  yet  he 
was  the  only  perfect  saint. 

This  same  contradictoriness,  enclosing  both  poles 
of  truth,  attaches  even  to  his  words.  He,  who  said, 
"  The  Son  of  man  is  not  come  to  destroy  men's  lives, 
but  to  save  them,"  said  also,  "  I  came  not  to  bring 
peace,  but  a  sword."  At  one  time,  he  instructed 
his  disciples  not  to  take  weapons  with  them  on  their 
missionary  tour ;  at  another,  he  told  them  to  sell 
their  scrip  and  buy  a  sword.  Once,  he  said,  "I 
and  my  Father  are  one,"  "  He  who  hath  seen  me, 
hath  seen  the  Father ; "  and  again,  "  My  Father  is 
greater  than  I ;  "  "  No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any 
time." 

We  have  called  attention  to  these  peculiarities  of 
the  Saviour's  nature,  because  by  insight  into  the 
structure  of  his  character,  we  gain  new  light  upon 
the  glory  and  fulness  of  his  system.  Christ  and 
Christianity,  in  a  certain  sense,  are  one.  "  The 
Word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us,"  that 
the  grandeur  of  God's  truth  might  be  commended 
to  the  eyes  and  hearts  of  men.  And,  moreover, 
every  instance  of  greatness,  every  intricate  mani- 
festation of  breadth  and  harmony ,in  the  nature  and 
office  of  Jesus,  which  can  be  pointed  out,  confirms 
the  proof  of  the  reality  of  his  mission,  and  increases 


344  THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS. 

the  impossibility  of  believing  that  we  owe  the  records 
of  him  to  the  tricks  of  deceivers,  or  the  accidental 
symmetry  of  myths. 

We  are  also  taught  by  the  theme  we  have  consid- 
ered that  truth  always  presents  two  aspects.  It  is 
an  honest  double-dealer.  Duty  branches  out  into 
seemingly  opposing  forms.  The  most  contradictory 
qualities  run  together,  and  come  to  identity  in  living 
principle.  At  bottom,  there  is  no  difference  between 
true  formalism  and  spiritualism,  between  proper 
self-reliance  and  dependence  on  God,  between 
healthy  trust  in  the  inward  light  and  trust  in  a  writ- 
ten revelation,  between  necessity  and  free-will,  be- 
tween the  doctrine  of  faith  and  the  doctrine  of 
works.  Narrow  minds  take  in  one  phase,  and  are 
fierce  partisans,  always  logical  and  consistent  with 
their  premises,  and  always  false,  because  their  prem- 
ises are  too  narrow ;  great  minds  see  both  phases, 
and  are  calm  and  catholic,  and  their  speech  is  often 
charged  with  inconsistency.  But  their  inconsistency 
is  only  consistency  with  both  hemispheres  of  truth. 
Christ  saw  deep  enough  to  be  a  reconciler,  to  hold 
both  poles  of  nature  in  his  mind,  to  be  inconsistent 
as  life  and  the  thought  of  God. 

And,  at  bottom,  too,  there  is  no  difference  between 
justice  and  love,  humility  and  strength,  gentleness 
and  dignity,  true  expediency  and  principle,  com- 
plete self-sacrifice  and  the  sweetest  self-indulgence. 
Christ's  soul  was.so  faithful,  and  so  permeated  with 
spiritual  life,  that  all  these  qualities  were  united  in 
him ;  and  the  manifestations  of  his  virtue,  when  we 


THE  SAVIOUR'S  CHARACTER  AND  TEACHINGS.  345 

study  them  separately,  seem  inconsistent,  because 
his  character,  when  we  look  at  its  essence,  was  so 
harmonious  and  so  rich,  that  it  could  not  be  confined 
to  one  form  of  life,  but  must  flower  out  into  every 
possible  element  of  spiritual  power  and  grace. 

As  we  stand  before  the  massive  structure  of  tho 
Saviour's  character,  so  complex,  yet  so  simple,  per- 
vaded by  a  great  law  of  unity  and  harmony,  that 
reconciles  all  its  parts,  it  is  like  standing  before  some 
gothic  minster  where  each  niche  and  turret  and 
pointed  window  conspire  to  the  simplicity  of  impres- 
sion, and  its  grandeur  results  from  its  myriad  details 
of  grace.  It  is  like  listening  to  a  symjliiony  by 
some  great  master,  in  which  various  movements, 
and  a  thousand  melodies,  and  occasional  discords 
even,  contribute  to  the  sublime  and  inspiring  effect. 
That  life  is  God's  greatest  gift  to  us ;  it  enfolds  the 
fulness  of  truth. 


XVI. 

THE  CHIEF  APPEAL  OF   RELIGION. 


THE  points' which  have  generally  interested  peo- 
ple most  in  relation  to  religious  things  are,  What 
shall  we  have,  if  we  take  up  the  denials  and  bur- 
dens of  a  Christian  life  ?  or,  what  shall  we  lose,  if 
we  remain  as  we  are,  and  do  not  take  them  up  ? 
Take  Christendom  through,  and  we  think  it  will  be 
found  that  a  true  life,  harmonious  in  its  spirit  with 
that  Jesus  led,  is  presented  to  men  in  the  light,  and 
urged  by  the  motives  of  a  low  and  earthly  interest. 
The  animus  of  Peter's  question  is  still  dominant  in 
countless  hearts,  "  Behold,  we  have  forsaken  all 
and  followed  thee  ;  what  shall  we  have,  therefore  ?  " 

We  do  not  propose  to  spend  much  time  in  criti- 
cising this  method  of  presenting  religion,  and  in 
showing  the  folly  of  it.  It  has  its  root  in  truth. 
We  all  know  how  frequent  is  the  appeal  to  the  ter- 
rors of  perdition,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  the 
glories  of  the  saintly  world,  as  influences  to  keep 
men  from  sin,  and  .to  bind  them  to  God's  service. 
'These  appeals  have  their  root  in  truth.  There  is 
terrible  reality  at  the  foundation  of  the  coarsest 
denunciations  of  fire  and  wrath  ;  for  the  evil  effects 
of  sin,  however  inaccurate  may  be  the  forms  of  our 

846 


THE   CHIEF  APPEAL   OF   EELIGION.  347 

conception  of  them,  can  never  be  too  powerfully 
impressed.  And  the  joys  of  heaven  cannot  be  more 
attractively  depicted  than  the  reality  deserves. 

But  still  we  have  no  right  to  use  these,  or  to  feel 
these,  as  motives  to  reverent  and  righteous  living, 
until  we  have  a  proper  sense  of  a  motive  that  is 
higher  and  nobler  than  both  ;  and  cannot  really  see 
and  appreciate  the  dangers  of  sin  and  the  rewards 
of  duty,  until  we  have  a  central  sense  of  something 
which  makes  a  religious  life  more  binding  than 
either  those  terrors  or  those  rewards.  For,  if  we 
look  at  it  close  enough,  we  shall  see  that  there  is 
nothing  in  the  idea  of  hell  alone,  or  of  heaven 
alone  which  makes  a  religious  call  appeal  to  the 
spiritual  and  infinite  part  of  our  nature.  An  angel 
may  come  down  and  tell  me  that  if  I  do  not  live  in 
a  certain  way  henceforth,  I  shall  burn  for  it  here- 
after, and  that  if  I  do,  I  shall  be  lifted  to  everlasting 
joys  ;  but  if  he  does  not  tell  me  something  more, 
although  this  may  be  all  true,  he  has  not  said  any- 
thing which  makes  that  life  binding1  on  my  soul ;  he 
has  not  touched  the  immortal  core  of  my  being ; 
he  has  not  made  me  look  up  and  revere  law,  and 
aspire  to  goodness,  and  adore  God.  If  I  walk  in 
the  way  he  marks  out,  for  the  reasons  he  prescribes, 
I  walk  as  an  earthly  being,  from  dictates  of  interest, 
and  without  the  nobility  of  any  spiritua.1  motive 
behind  my  action. 

There  is,  then,  a  preliminary  question  to  the 
inquiry,  "  What  shall  we  have,  or  what  shall  we 
lose,  as  the  consequence  of  our  faith  or  our  worldli- 


348  THE   CHIEF   APPEAL   OF   RELIGION. 

ness  ?  "  The  strong  motive,  the  steady  impulse  to 
a  Christian  life  should  flow  from  that  feature  of  it 
which  makes  it  binding  upon  men  ;  that  view  of 
it  which  makes  it  a  disgrace  and  a  shame  for  a  man 
to  be  indifferent  to  it ;  that  view  of  it  which  makes 
one  less  a  man  when  he  does  not  possess  it,  and 
truly  and  only  a  man  when  he  is  crowned  by  it. 

Religion,  when  truly  conceived,  has  vital  analogies 
with  all  other  vital  relations  which  the  human  soul 
sustains,  and  may  perhaps  be  most  powerfully  pre- 
sented in  the  dress  of  those  analogies.  Let  us  use 
therefore,  for  a  few  moments,  this  form  of  unfolding 
the  thought  we  desire  to  impress. 

Imagine  the  case  of  a  man  afflicted  with  some  disor- 
der, that  drains  his  vitality,  allows  his  best  organs  but 
a  feeble  play,  and  so  imposes  on  him  a  languid  and 
miserable  life.  A  person  skilled  in  the  treatment 
of  such  a  disorder  goes  to  him,  and  lays  before  him 
a  course  of  treatment  for  his  consideration,  which 
will  restore  him  to  health.  But  it  will  require 
great  care,  strict  and  long-continued  obedience  to 
the  bodily  laws,  exercise  that  may  be  painful,  reso- 
lute resistance  of  the  temptations  to  sloth  and  sleep. 
And,  often,  medicines  must  be  taken  that  are  repul- 
sive to  the  taste.  What,  now,  if  the  man  believing 
what  the  physician  says,  believing  that  he  can  be 
cured  by,  such  means,  should  fix  his  attention  on 
the  hardships  and  the  long,  painful  discipline  con- 
nected with  the  remedy,  and  should  ask,  "  What 
shall  I  have  if  I  submit  to  this  process  ?  what  rec- 
ompense can  you  promise  for  these  sufferings  ? " 


THE  CHIEF  APPEAL   OP  RELIGION.  349 

"Would  not  such  a  question  be  an  indication  that  the 
malady  had  affected  his  mind,  as  well  as  his  body  ? 
that  it  had  withered  his  manliness  as  well  as  his 
muscles  ? 

The  physician,  it  is  true,  might  eloquently  portray 
to  him  the  sadness  of  his.  sickly  state,  and  point  out 
the  evils  to  which  he  will  be  surely  doomed  in 
future,  if  his  disorder  is  not  rooted  out ;  but,  would 
not  anybody  expect  that  the  great  motive  which 
would  strive  with  the  sick  man,  and  lead  him  to 
adopt  such  a  treatment,  would  be  the  desire  to  be 
well?  And  if  any  argument  was  needed,  if  any 
address  or  stimulus  was  required  to  arouse  him, 
should  we  not  suppose  that  enough  would  be  found 
in  that  one  word,  health  ?  Should  we  not  think  that 
the  most  joyful  speech  the  man  could  listen  to 
would  be,  "  You  can  have  health  again  ;  your  blood 
may  flow  "with  pleasure,  and  your  step  be  strong; 
you  shall  be  able  to  enjoy  the  fresh  air  and  delight 
in  the  glories  of  nature ;  you  shall  be  able  to  do 
your  work  as  a  man,  and  as  a  member  of  society, 
and  the  food  earned  by  toil  shall  be  nutritious,  and 
the  sleep  that  refreshes  your  limbs  for  duty  shall  be 
sweet  ?  "  Should  we  not  suppose  that  any  drugs,  • 
any  regimen,  any  hardships,  that  should  bid  fair  to 
bring  a  man  to  such  a  state,  would  be  welcome, 
because  of  that  state  ?  Should  we  not  be  amazed, 
if  the  man  required  any  other  impulse,  any  bribe, 
any  promise  of  a  good  unconnected  with  such  a 
return  of  health,  to  bring  him  to  the  adoption  of 
those  means  ? 


350  THE   CHIEF  APPEAL   OF   RELIGION. 

This  analogy  is  important,  and  the  truth  it  points 
to  more  important.  Let  us  take  another  instance 
that  the  force  of  the  principle  may  be  more  clearly 
seen.  What  if  one  should  go  to  a  blind  man  with 
the  news  that,  at  the  price  of  certain  unpleasant  con- 
ditions, his  lost  faculty  could  be  regained !  Would 
any  other  inducement  be  necessary  to  insure  an 
eager  attention  ?  Would  he  not  say,  "  Fix  any 
conditions,  within  the  limits  of  honor,  and  they  will 
be  a  trifle  to  the  joy  of  having  my  eyes  again  ?  Let 
me  undergo  anything,  if  only  this  thick  darkness  — 
this  unnatural  night  —  can  be  broken,  so  that  the 
sun  shall  shine  for  me  again, "and  the  faces  of  my 
friends  be  visible,  and  the  world  be  painted  with 
the  glory  of  the  rising  and  setting  sun."  Would 
you  think  it  anything  less  than  insanity  if  the  man 
should  ask  for  any  other  inducement  to  the  adop- 
tion of  the  proposed  cure  —  even  though  that  cure 
might  require  the  most  painful  surgical  operation  — 
than  the  thought  that  his  eyes  could  be  restored  to 
him  ? 

Or,  again,  suppose  the  case  of  an  ignorant  man, 
who  has  a  strong  mind  and  a  capacity  of  being  em- 
inent as  a  student,  —  perhaps  a  capacity  to  rank  as 
high  in  the.  realm  of  acquired  truth  as  Newton. 
You  offer  him  all  the  means  of  instruction.  But 
he  sees  that  the  path  of  study  is  laborious ;  that  the 
acquisition  of  principles  and  the  steps  of  advance 
are  toilsome ;  that  the  price  to  be  paid  is  conse- 
cration and  systematic  drilling  and  patient  applica- 
tion and  contentment  with  slow  progress.  Suppose, 


THE   CHIEF   APPEAL   OF   RELIGION.  351 

therefore,  he  should  ask  you,  "  What  shall  I  have, 
if  I  continue  in  the  line  marked  out  ?  What  rec- 
ompense shall  I  find  if,  at  all  this  expense  of  disci- 
pline I  attain  a  cultured  intellect,  and  rise  to  be  fel- 
low with  Newton,  Herschel,  and  Humboldt  ?  "  Could 
you  present  anything  that  would  be  a  more  stimulat- 
ing motive  than  the  prospect  of  arriving  at  such  a 
state  ?  Would  you  not  strive  to  make  him  see  that 
such  a  hope  could  not  be  abased  to  a  secondary 
place  ?  You  might  talk  of  the  power  which  knowl- 
edge gives;  of  the  station,  dignity,  wealth,  enjoy- 
ments that  often  follow  in  its  train  ;  but  you  would 
tell  him  that  all  these  are  of  less  account  than  the 
possession  of  knowledge  and  wise  faculties ;  that 
the  supreme. thing  is  to  know  the  treasures  of  God's 
wisdom  and  the  riches  of  human  nature,  and  that 
the  glorious  reward  of  culture  is  to  be  wise  and 
wealthy  in  the  mind. 

It  is  a  great  pity  that  the  analogy  of  religion  with 
other  subjects  belonging  to  human  life  and  human 
interests  is  not  more  clearly  seen.  We  should  be 
saved  from  a  world  of  follies,  and  should  feel  the 
appeal  and  the  authority  of  religion  more  intensely, 
if  we  felt  that  there  are  these  analogies,  and  if  they 
always  shed  their  light  upon  what  we  call  the  inter- 
ests of  Jhe  soul.  Just  as  the  highest  thing  which  you 
can  propose  to  a  sick  man  is  health,  just  as  the  most 
excellent  boon  which  you  can  offer  to  a  blind  man 
is  his  eyesight,  just  as  the  most  desirable  tiling 
which  you  can  propose  to  the  mind  of  the  untutored 
man  is  knowledge,  —  so  the  most  precious  tiling 


352  THE   CHIEF   APPEAL   OF   RELIGION. 

which  can  be  set  before  the  aspirations  of  a  spirit- 
ual baing  is  goodness,  holiness,  a  Christ-like  life. 
The  great  motive  that  should  stimulate  our  affec- 
tions and  brace  pur  will  must  flow  down  to  us  from 
the  objects  themselves  that  are  offered  to  the  ambi- 
tion of  our  heavenly  nature. 

But  we  need  not  say  that  this  is  not  the  way  in 
which  men  generally  regard  the  subject,  or  have  it  set 
before  them.  The  absorbing  question  with  a  great 
many  people  seems  to  be,  not  whether  the  law  of 
Christ  is  true,  not  whether  the  claim  of  conscience 
and  the  call  of  God  are  right,  but  what  if  we  don't 
follow  them  ?  And  the  most  fervent  Christian  elo- 
quence seems  to  flow  in  showing  that  God  has  infi- 
nite power  to  enforce  his  laws,  and  an  eternity  to 
do  it  in.  So  that  the  costs,  risks,  and  sacrifices  of 
a  Christian  life  are  commended  on  the  ground  of 
the  loss  that  attends  the  failure  to  make  them.  Let 
us  not  object  that  the  penalties  of  wrong  living 
should  be  set  before  men ;  the  more  vividly  the  bet- 
ter, if  truthfully  done.  But  should  not  the  first  ques- 
tion of  every  fair  mind  be  this :  "  Is  a  law  true ;  is 
the  Christian  life  the  highest  life  for  a  being  that 
has  a  soul  ?  "  Independently  of  the  question  of 
penalties  or  hardships,  of  what  it  will"  cost  if  we 
neglect,  or  of  what  it  will  come  to  if  we  honor  re- 
ligious principles,  is  not  the  first  question  —  the 
question  which  should  decide  a  man's  course  — 
simply  this,  "  Is  a  religious  career  the  right  career  ? 
And  should  not  that  preaching  be  called  the  most 
wholesome,  searching,  powerful,  and  evangelical, 


THE   CHIEF   APPEAL   OF   RELIGION.  353 

which  scatters  and  burns  up  all  mists  that  lie  be- 
tween the  soul  and  the  truth  of  things,  so  that  a 
hearer  must  go  away  from  it  speared  through  the 
brain  and  conscience  with  the  conviction  that  an 
unconsecrated  life  is  falsehood  and  moral  idiocy  ? 
Countless  subsidiary  and  additional  appeals  and  in* 
fluences  of  course,  in  all  great  preaching,  will  be 
brought  to  bear  to  invest  this  truth  with  charm, 
with  pathos,  with  sweetness,  to  kindle  the  emo- 
tions of  penitence,  and  to  nourish  the  seeds  of 
grace ;  but  this  must  be  the  granite  basis  of  any 
healthy  dealing  with  human  nature  in  respect  of 
religion. 

If  some  one  should  come  to  you  with  a  proposi- 
tion which  he  wished  you  to  believe,  and  which  it 
was  important  that  you  should  believe,  would  you 
think  of  asking  him  first,  "  What  shall  I  gain  by 
attending  to  it,  or  what  shall  I  lose  by  disbelieving 
it?"  Would  you  think  of  looking  to  any  other 
sources  than  the  evidence  he  could  bring  -for  the 
proposition  ?  Would  you  imagine  that  any  bribe 
or  any  threat  could  effect  the  real  merits  of  the 
subject  a  hair,  or  deserve  to  be  thought  of  a  mo- 
ment by  an  honest  mind  ?  Can  you  conceive  such 
a  thing  as  refusing  to  believe  it  if  the  evidence  is 
sufficient  to  establish  it  ?  Now  a  question  of  ac- 
tion, set  before  the  moral  nature,  is  precisely  analo- 
gous to  a  question  for  belief  set  before  the  mind. 
The  all-important  thing  is,  whether  it  is  right  or 
not.  To  refuse  to  do  it,  if  it  is  right,  because  it 
runs  counter  to  some  of  our  pleasures,  is  as  mon- 

28 


354  THE   CHIEF   APPEAL   OF   RELIGION. 

strous  a  thing  as  to  refuse  assent  to  a  demonstrated 
doctrine,  because  it  runs  counter  to  some  of  our 
prejudices.  The  idea  of  gilding  a  moral  truth  or 
a  Christian  call  with  anything  different  from  it- 
self, as  a  temptation,  is  like  the  idea  of  bribing  a 
'judge  to  bend  his  opinion.  Just  think  of  setting 
up  a  Christian  virtue  with  a  necklace  around  it  or 
any  ornament  upon  it  to  make  the  soul  aspire  toward 
it,  and  choose  it.  It  is  true,  as  the  hymn  says,  — 

"  Wisdom  has  treasures  greater  far 

Than  east  or  west  unfold, 
And  her  rewards  more  precious  are 
Than  all  their  gems  of  gold." 

But  spiritual  wisdom  has  no  treasure  and  no  reward 
so  precious  as  itself.  The  moment  we  bring  some- 
thing foreign  from  Christian  goodness,  as  a  control- 
ling motive  to  the  choice  of  goodness,  even  though 
it  may  be  a  joy  or  an  honor  that  naturally  results 
from  being  good,  we  practically  set  something  above 
a  true  life  ;  we  practically  say  that  there  is  some- 
thing in  the  universe  of  greater  worth  than  holi- 
ness, to  which  a  true  life  is  the  path.  This  is  a 
profanation  of  Christianity ;  however  serious  the 
preaching  sounds  that  deals  with  such  implements, 
it  commends  worldliness  in  spiritual  guise.  The 
Saviour,  in-  the  beatitudes,  promised  certain  rewards 
to  certain  dispositions,  —  the  inheritance  of  the 
earth  to  the  meek,  and  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to 
the  persecuted  ;  but  the  preciousness  of  the  highest 
states  of  mind  he  placed  in  those  states  themselves. 


THE  CHIEF  APPEAL  OP  RELIGION.      355 

He  said,  "  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall 
obtain  mercy ;  blessed  are  they  which  hunger  and 
thirst  after  righteousness,  for  they  shall  be  filled; 
blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God." 

If  a  man  asks,  therefore,  "  What  will  be  the  con- 
sequences to  me  if  I  remain  in  sin  ?  "  we  may  an- 
swer, "  The  very  worst  possible  consequence  will 
surely  be  your  doom,  —  the  possession  of  a  sinful 
love,  contentment  in  sin ;  and  the  more  placidly  look 
around  you  for  extraneous  consequences  to  warn 
you  from  such  a  state,  the  more  deep  is  the  judg- 
ment of  that  state  now  upon  you.  Extraneous  con- 
sequences, and  bitter  enough,  will  doubtless  coil 
around  you,  as  the  years  roll  off,  but  in  the  sight 
of  God,  the  direst  punishment  that  besets  you  is  the 
state  that  you  are  in.  The  feeling  that  rules  you  is 
the  architect  of  the  hell  you  suffer;  every  fiery 
wave  that  will  ever  roll  in  upon  you  will  be  the  in- 
fernal creation  of  that  temper, — *a  terrible  parody, 
by  the  spirit  of  evil,  of  the  first  creative  fiat  of  di- 
vine goodness  saying, '  Let  there  be  darkness  and 
torment,'  as  the  holy  word  first  said, '  Let  there  be 
light.'  And  the  spirit  that  rules  you  will  be  as 
much  more  dreadful  than  the  consequences  of  it  as 
the  black,  billowy  turmoil  in  the  breast  of  Satan, 
when  he  tumbled  from  heaven  into  the  pit,  was 
more  awful  than  the  sullen  heat  of  the  burning  marl 
that  awaited  his  frame." 

If  a  man  asks,  "  What  shall  I  have,  if,  in  obedi- 
ience  to  the  calls  of x  religious  truth,  I  conquer  diffi- 
culties, and  walk  in  ways  that  the  worldly  nature 


356  THE   CHIEF  APPEAL   OP  RELIGION. 

does  not  love  ?  "  We  may  answer,  "  You  will  have 
the  divine  quality,  the  inward  nobleness,  the  con- 
scious fellowship  of  God's  spirit,  which  such  a  walk 
brings.  Other  things  you  will  have,  —  peace,  satis- 
faction, heaven,  as  the  consequence,  but  nothing  So 
valuable  or  so  glorious  as  the  thing  itself,  which 
generates  every  consequence."  Would  you  think 
of  expecting  anybody  to  reward  you  in  external 
ways  for  being  just,  or  for  loving  your  child  ? 
Would  you  think  of  carrying  any  account  to  the 
eternal  bar  setting  forth,  "  So  much  is  due  me  for 
helping  a  sufferer  with  a  coin  that  might  have  pur- 
chased pleasure  for  me  at  the  theatre  ?  "  The  just 
and  lovely  disposition  is  its  own  recompense.  God 
does  not  and  cannot  pay  for  it  in  guineas  and  soft 
climates,  any  more  than  you  can  sell  your  attach- 
ment and  respect  to  another  for  gold.  If  the  pul- 
pit could  make  men  see  the  intrinsic  excellence  of 
goodness  as  a  Christian  state  of  heart !  God  would 
have  us  see  that,  and  feel  the  impulsive  motive  that 
comes  from  seeing  it.  It  was  for  this  that  the 
Christ  was  clothed  in  flesh,  and  made  our  humanity 
translucent  with  the  divinest  charm. 

We  all  of  us  have  souls,  we  all  of  us  have  infinite 
natures,  and  they  cannot  find  their  objects  their 
food,  their  exercise,  except  in  the  sphere  of  things 
with  which  religion  invests  us.  The  worth  of  piety 
to  the  spirit  is  like  the  worth  of  health  to  the  body ; 
the  importance  of  religious  truths  to  the  best  part 
of  us  is  like  the  value  of  light,  and  the  colored  glo- 
ries of  nature  to  the  eye.  If  we  do  not  have  a 


THE   CHIEF   APPEAL  OF  RELIGION.  357 

pious  spirit  within  us,  we  are  diseased ;  and  nothing 
can  express  the  dreadfulness  of  our  state  more  than 
the  simple  declaration  that  we  are  in  that  state.  If 
we  do  not  live  amid  those  objects  we  are  blind ;  and 
nothing  further  that  can  be  said  can  add  anything 
to  the  description  of  the  misery  of  our  condition. 
The  buildings  in  which  people  gather  to  listen  to 
pulpit  words  are  not  more  firmly  founded  on  their 
corner-stones  than  the  church  and  its  doctrines  are 
based  on  the  needs  of  human  nature  and  the  truth 
of  things. 

The  most  solemn  and  efficient  sanction  of  the 
gospel  is  this,  that  we  are  absent  from  truth  in  our 
falsehood  to  religious  law  and  claims ;  that  we  scorn 
things  which  are  in  themselves  the  highest  and  most 
valuable  things,  —  as  health  is  the  best  thing  for  the 
body,  sight  for  the  eye,  and  science  for  the  mind. 
And  here  the  subject  becomes  impressively  practical. 
It  springs  of  itself  from  an  essay  into  a  sermon. 
What  person  will  not  say,  what  person  does  not  often 
say,  that  a  Christian  life  is  better  than  a  selfish  one, 
—  the  highest  condition  of  the  soul  ?  What  person 
will  not  say  that  humble  dependence  upon  God  is 
not  a  higher  state  than  proud  self-reliance,  that  a 
sincere,  filial  prayer,  every  morning,  is  not  a  better 
way  to  begin  the  day  than  thoughtlessness  or  ingrati- 
tude ?  Who  does  not  believe  that  doing  good  to 
others  is  a  better  work  than  bending  every  hour  to 
his  own  enjoyment  ?  that  practical  faith  in  God  is 
a  higher  spirit  than  practical  unbelief?  that  a 
sweet,  forgiving,  charitable  disposition  is  more  de- 


358  THE   CHIEF   APPEAL   OF   RELIGION. 

sirable  than  a  harsh  and  coarse  and  self-seeking  spirit? 
Who  will  not  say  that  a  man  of  probity  and  holiness 
and  deep  usefulness  is  not  infinitely  more  worthy 
than  a  man  of  mere  wealth  and  avarice?  Bring 
together  all  the  typical  characters  of  history  —  the 
warrior,  the  statesman,  the  artist,  the  monarch,  the 
pleasure-seeker,  the  man  of  money,  and  who  is  there 
that  will  not  deliberately  place  such  a  character  as 
Jesus  ajbove  them  air',  as  alone  worthy  the  heart's 
deepest  reverence  and  love,  and  as  showing  more 
gloriously  tho  worth  of  man  ?  Who  is  there  that 
does  not  pay  this  homage  of  his  judgment  and 
approval  -  to  religious  principles  and  a  Christian 
character  ? 

What  more  powerful  call,  what  more  urgent 
motive,  can  appeal  to  any  person,  to  go  higher  up 
the  Christian  life,  or  to  begin  a  Christian  life,  than 
this  worship  of  it  by  every  inmost  soul  ?  We  have 
heard  something  of  the  eloquence  of  revivalists  in 
their  calls  to  men  to  forsake  sin  and  serve  God,  but 
we  know  nothing  in  their  most  gorgeous  pictures  of 
hell,  or  their  most  fascinating  fancies  of  heaven,  that 
has  a  tithe  of  the  weight,  as  a  motive,  which  the 
fact  ought  to  bring  with  it,  that  a  religious  life  is 
indorsed  as  the  best  possession,  in  the  centre  of  every 
heart.  "  This  is  the  condemnation,"  said  Jesus,  in 
a, passage  whose  meaning  will  never  be  exhausted 
while  a  sinner  lives  in  the  universe,  "  that  light  is 
come  into  the  world,  and  men  love  darkness  rather 
than  light  because  their  deeds  are  evil."  Yes,  dam- 
nation is  the  choice  of  that  which  we  know  is  not 


THE    CHIEF   APPEAL.  OF   RELIGION.  359 

worthy  of  choice.  Hell  is  a  life  in  that  which  is  not 
true,  and  which  our  own  souls  condemn.  The  devil 
is  the  father  of  lies,  the  arch-falsehood,  and  his  chain 
is  on  all  spirits,  and  his  stamp  seared  into  their  fore- 
head, who  obey  what  they  confess  is  not  deserving 
obedience,  who  dream  of  finding  good  in  what  the 
heart  refuses  to  revere  as  best.  Deep  down  below 
all  hells,  the  root  of  hell,  is  the  feeling  of  satisfac- 
tion in  what  conscience  condemns.  High  up  above 
all  heavens,  the  very  sun-source  of  the  radiance  of 
heaven,  is  the  splendor  of  holy  virtue  in  itself;  and 
the  fountain  of  its  power,  and  its  most  authoritative 
appeal  to  the  human  heart,  lie  in  the  fact  that  it  is 
the  highest  truth  and  the  highest  good. 


ro  o  u 


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